


Primagravita

by Scrumpadouchus



Series: Polyphony in Parts [2]
Category: League of Legends
Genre: Aftercare, Body Worship, Bondage, Breastfeeding, F/M, Lactation, Lactation Kink, Marking, Multiple Sex Positions, Oral Fixation, Oral Sex, Post-Coital Cuddling, Pregnancy, Pregnancy Kink, Pregnant Sex, Sex Toys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-21
Updated: 2018-08-03
Packaged: 2019-04-05 11:19:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 22,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14043117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scrumpadouchus/pseuds/Scrumpadouchus
Summary: Various smuts set late in the Polyphony timeline that I decided should go... somewhere else.





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pt 1 of 2.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As I have hardly any experience with smut, my friend dared me to take the bird smuts farther than ever before. So I decided, "I'm already going to hell, so why not?!"  
> Enjoy my trash.
> 
> Also, feedback is appreciated! It might help stop me from melting xD
> 
> This fic is related to the other one, Polyphony, but because these smuts were basically dares/me challenging myself, and is a bit different in tone than the main fic, I decided to make it a separate spin off. But it's all in the same timeline! This takes place when she's pretty far along... about 27-28 out of 30 months along. (We're going by Tolkein/Dnd rules for the gestation time of the immortal Vastayan race, which is x3 the average human time of 9-10 months)

  


\-------

She’s practically _round_. He knows he stares at her, he knows he drools sometimes while watching her move, but he can’t help it. She’s perfect, no matter what size, and he’d love her no matter how she appeared, but he never thought he’d be _this_ into her being large with his child. It appeals to him in some dark, base way, and even if it embarrassed her he couldn’t help it.

Whenever she was in front of him, clothed or not, he would feel an incontrollable urge to grab her and pull her onto his lap, spread her legs and finger her under her clothes while marking up her neck under her cowl. He’d said so once, mouth moving without thinking, and she went quiet before replying with; _Well, why don’t you?_ And that had been the end of that.

When he sees her nude, it’s worse. One bare look at her curved, protruding tummy and heavy breasts and he’s hardening. She’s more difficult to maneuver now given her size, and that makes traditional positions challenging, but they make due. He doesn’t think he’d be able to take it if they had to put an embargo on laying together.

Hormones are making her horny more often than not, and he swears he’s getting some kind of second hand effect from that.

They’re tucked away now in a sheltered cave, padded well with bedding and closed off with vegetation thatched into a makeshift door and harmless will o wisps conjured to make ambient lighting. No clothes, no distractions, no others around to hear or interrupt them. That made it easy.

Xayah’s on his lap, face to face, blushing and bare. This all still embarrassed her. _Foolishness_. He needed to convince her of her beauty.

“Look at you.” He croons. He runs a hand over her stomach, appraised the stretched skin happily. She’d taken him so well, and now look where it had led her. Bred, awkward, burdened with child and hardly able to go from sitting to standing without great effort, now a days. “I knew you had good hips for this but… damn. You’re radiant.” 

Privately he thanked the stars that Vastaya almost always carried to term. She’d have several months left to swell further. Her body was so small normally - the effect of all of this was amplified.

“Stop it. I’m so fat.” She mutters. “I’ll be glad when this is over.”

“Don’t say that.” He kisses her stomach with a respecting awe. “You’re not fat, you’re expecting. There’s a _difference._ ”

Rakan takes one of their woolen blankets and pulls it up over her shoulders and his, pulling her in to snuggle as close as possible. She was so _warm_. He hugs her to him with one arm and strokes her hair with the other, twirling the long strands of burgundy through his fingers.

“My love. You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever laid eyes on - besides myself, of course.” He wiggles his eyebrows, and she snorts.

“I’m sure.” She says it with sarcasm, but her eyes are sparkling and she slides her arms down to hug him back tightly.

“Many are jealous of you. Not everyone can get this anymore.” He kisses her neck, pressing in at the pulse point there. He can feel it speeding up under his lips. _Getting excited_. “How do you feel?”

“Heavy. Awkward. Sore, most of all.”

“… Happy?”

She nuzzles her cheek against his.

 _“Yes_ , happy. Just irritated with some of the physical stuff.”

“Mhm. You need to tell me these things, sweetheart. I can give you massages! Anytime, anywhere.”

“It’s… not something I think you can help with. It only started happening yesterday.” She’s hiding again, turning her face into his neck and squeezing her arms tighter. A signal that she wanted him to constrict her more too.

He locks his arms tighter, and ponders her words. She makes a quiet sound of discomfort and he brings his arm back under the blankets to rub at her abdomen. Yet it’s not here that’s tender, since he’s touching at it now and she hasn’t seemed bothered.

When he was done caressing the half-moon of her tummy he slides the blanket down and inspects her breasts. They’re both swollen to the point of being firm, a recent development during the past week. _Strange though - they weren’t this bad yesterday._ He would _know_. She denied needing any help with them, but it was just her embarrassment of it taking over again. He knew they had to be tender.

“Let’s see you.” He takes one in his hand, appreciating the heft and presses in with a little pressure before pushing in wish his fingers in a churning, circular motion. Xayah takes a breath and holds it. 

They were firm, almost hard. He couldn’t imagine how much pressure she was feeling there. They had gone half a size up since conceiving; he wasn’t sure if they would go back to normal after birth, but he hoped not. He checks her twin, but it was the same. He peeks at her face; her eyes are closed, but she doesn’t seem to be in pain.

She was pretty far along. Not so soon that she was liable to pop any minute, but far enough that perhaps her body was getting ready in… other ways. Her hips had widened, her tummy had distended, and her breasts had swelled. Perhaps she was just ready early in this regard.

It was exciting. An idea struck him in a blink of intuition.

Perhaps…

He drops his lips to her nipple, laves his tongue over the nub, then sucks hard the same time he pushes down with his hand.

Xayah makes a beautiful sound, halfway between a gasp and crying out proper. That was proper encouragement to proceed as any. 

For a while he continues; holding her and pleasuring her chest until she beings to wiggle in his grip, grabbing his shoulders.

“I… please stop… _please_ honey, I don’t want to start- “ She cuts off with another whimper and that’s enough for him to pause, pulling off her nipple with a line of salivia connecting from tip to his chin.

He was more than familiar with Xayah and her tells by this point, and it didn’t sound like an actual demand to stop. If anything she just sounded ashamed of something, and he had a pretty good idea of _what_.

“Don’t worry. I’ve got you. This’ll make you feel better.” He says reassuringly, _“Trust me_. But if you want me to stop for real, I will.”

She gazes at his face, and after a moment she nods her assent, closes her eyes and bites her lower lip. He returns to her breast, giving a few more strong sucks and squeezes with his hand. After another thirty or so seconds Xayah makes a little soft sound above him, just as something warm and sweet rushes into his mouth. Rakan’s surprised, but pulls it happily over his tongue and swallows once his cheeks are half full. 

Milk. She’s lactating, only a few months early. With no baby to take it, it built up until her breasts were full to burst. Leaving it for longer would only have had her release it later, wetting her clothes while everyone could see. He’s glad he’d gotten to it now.

Her legs are getting restless, rubbing against themselves while she mewls at his ministrations. He draws from her until she is no longer supplying from that side and is soft again. He was right - that’s what she needed.

“Doing okay?” He licks his lips and looks up at her. She’s redder than a fall apple, hardly able to hold contact with him. It was almost like their first night, except she’s being more bashful now, impossibly shy from his eagerness.

“Yes. I just… can’t believe you just did that.” She mutters. 

“I’m not done yet.” He smiles coyly as he nods to her other side. “Want me to do the other?”

“I - yeah. Yeah. Okay.” She stutters and closes her eyes, effectively shutting the world back out.

This one was easier since he knew what to expect. She accepts him easier this time, and it comes faster, prepped from his work on the other. Rakan pushes his tongue hard around the nub, attempting to coax it to let down until it’s dancing across his taste buds. He could _moan_ \- she tastes so good. Indescribable, smooth and strangely nostalgic. 

His groin feels tight, there’s no way he’d last much more than a minute if he pushed inside her now. Why did he find this so damned _hot?_ All mothers did this - he idly wonders for a second if other fathers felt the same way. _They must_. There’s no way they could see their wives bloated with babe and milk and not lose their minds with want.

Didn’t matter. Perhaps it was because it was Xayah. She could do anything and he’d find it hot. 

His nose is pressed into her breast, and he knows he’s leaking precome onto her thigh. He should have slipped into her before starting this - he’d know better for next time, If there was a next time.

But, from the sounds of it, there probably was going to be. After all, he couldn’t have her _uncomfortable._

Even with his eyes closed, he felt an odd mix of relaxed and aroused. They were embracing, but she’s quivering down below, and it’s slick on his legs where she was sitting. All the while she’s rubbing his back and anchoring his head, but her breasts were almost empty now and each suckle gives him less and less.

Disappointing, but expected. A few final hard sucks and he pulls off and swallows; infinitely pleased. He rubs his fingers over her chest, happy with her returned softness and perked buds. _Perfect._

“Almost done.” He says, when his eyes snapped to her throat. Her neck was unmarred and creamy pale. _He should fix that_.

Boneless, she tilts her head, giving him easy access. Rakan kisses the skin there a few times before nipping with his teeth, then planting his mouth firmly and sucking hard on her moistened skin. Xayah marked up easily, he wouldn’t have to go for long. Still he repeats the act two more times just in case; one on her pulse point and another on her collarbone.

He missed her mouth. Rakan kisses up her neck to end on her own puffed lips, pushing until he can wrestle her tongue with his own. She can probably taste herself off of him. When he breaks it off she’s flushed and panting, with a spark back to her eye that burned with hunger. She wasn’t done yet.

He’d had his fun. Time to let Xayah have hers. Rakan smiles at her and nods, relaxing back a little from his dominant stance. Xayah traces a hand down his jaw line, leaving it to rest on his shoulder. He takes a deep, slow breath and waits.

Then she dives for his neck, piercing his skin lightly with a bite and marking him with a hickey, sucking a bit harder than was strictly necessary just for spite.

In response to a hard nip at his neck he pinches her ass, and she yelps, pulling back to give him a dirty look. He winks. She pinches him back over the now forming bruise, and he laughs.

“Alright, alright. I’ll be good.”

“Thank you.” She huffs, and goes to his chest, though dreadfully boring compared to hers. He knows what she’s going to do. It probably wouldn’t be nearly as satisfying as the other way around, but he wasn’t going to complain.

Xayah plants her lips around his right nipple and bites the skin around it -much more lightly this time - going over it once with her tongue before applying any more pressure.

Of course she was going to mark him there. Even if the weather for the next week was cold, he wouldn’t dare cover this mark up. Not that anybody else needed reminding that he was hers, but still some ladies had trouble accepting that he was happily taken. Xayah never intervened - her trust in him was more solid than diamond - but she was always more aggressive with her touches later when they were alone. 

When she’s satisfied she withdraws and gives him a grin.

_What a tease._

Rakan lifts her by her thick thighs and pulls her as close as possible with him chest to chest, though it left at least a foot more of space than was to be desired and slips a hand down between them to touch her folds, going from outer to inner and rubbing a little against the walls just inside. The velvety muscles there are relaxed, not tense as he had expected. 

No wonder she had been so compliant earlier.

“Have you come already?” His lips quirk up into a teasing smile and his chest puffs out a little with pride. 

“Maybe.” Her eyes flicker down and back up. “Seems like you’re having a bit of trouble though… it looks uncomfortable. Want me to help?”

She taps at his arm, and he lets her climb off his lap, instead kneeling near his feet. She bends over slow, making a show of it, long, long hair tossed over her shoulder. He doesn’t have more than a second to prepare before she has him by the base of his dick with her hand and takes him into her mouth.

It has to be awkward for her, trying to bend over with so much in the way but she doesn’t show it; hollowing out her cheeks and keeping her teeth covered. All he can see from his angle is the bobbing of her head, and by the way she’s holding his right thigh tight enough to leave tiny crescents from her nails he’s pretty sure she doesn’t want him interfering. 

A few good dips with her mouth and he feels the characteristic tightening to an unbearable point, pleasure mounting until final, blessed release. She swallows him down while milking him with her hand, and Rakan groans, drawn out and low. She keeps his hips still until his jutting ceased, then wipes her mouth on the back of her arm and shimmies back up.

Rakan takes her back into his arms, wrapping her back up under the blanket and lying back down.

“Done for now?” She teases, walking her fingers up his chest and poking at the fresh bruise forming there.

“Give me a minute.” He nuzzles at her hair and she hums happily, resting her head against his chest and having a moment of peace.

“That’s fine.” She says back, tone unbearably fond. “We have all the time in the world.”

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prepare for the next chapter to escalate by like 1000%


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Round two of two.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everything escalates by 1000%

  
\--------

Every morning now when they awoke Xayah felt a sense of quiet expectation enough to make her cheeks a little rosy. Ever since they started experimenting with this… _arrangement_ , Rakan had been paying inordinate amounts of attention to her chest. Always asking if she was okay or if she wanted his help.

He didn’t want her uncomfortable, that was true. But there was more to it than that. She could vouch for her own private enjoyment, and he shared it. Though she was glad they were on their own now - if anyone caught them doing this she wouldn’t know how she could explain it away.

Was this normal? Whatever - _since when did they care what others would think?_

The morning was often where it’d start. Rakan would sneak a covert brush over her chest while they were sleepily spooning as if he thought she wouldn’t notice. Once it was obvious she was awake he’d actually ask, with a quick lick of his lips, already anticipating; _baby, do you need any help?_

The answer was almost always yes - nine hours of sleep lead to a build up - but sometimes if she wasn’t too uncomfortable she’d say _no, maybe later,_ and see how long she could push his self-control. 

This morning she’d said _no_.

He had been disappointed, but playfully so, nipping her jaw and peppering her face with light kisses, then helping her to her feet to get ready for the day.

By lunch she can feel her breasts rubbing against her dress, hypersensitive to the sensation of her nipples against the soft fabric. It was starting to get vaguely distracting - to herself _and_ to Rakan - he keeps looking back at her; he can definitely see them starting to protrude out. That morning she had been semi-soft, though pushing too hard gave resistance. Now she didn’t even want to think of trying to squeeze or massage them, it’d only end in her getting her dress wet or making a spectacle.

Why did she have to ripen before the baby came? This was just _inconvenient._ Maybe she could sneak off and express some by hand without Rakan finding out.

“Honey, we need to take a break. I need to pee.” She pulls at his hand and presses her thumb into his palm.

His hands were so big and warm around hers. She loves them.

“Okay! We’ll stop here.” He kisses her hand, drops it, and drags his foot through the dirt to make a large circle only to then start roughly scratching runes into it. Xayah can make out the beginning characters of his name so far.

“Can you wait here for me? I won’t go far.” She asks while backing away off the beaten path. Most times he’d follow and stay in the periphery, too worried about anything possibly going wrong to get more than a hundred feet from her. There were trees behind her she could part through and then go a little farther till she had proper privacy. Hopefully Rakan would get distracted by whatever he’s doing and give her more time before coming to investigate.

“Yep!”

He’s not paying attention to her anymore, fully absorbed into whatever he’s trying to write with his feet. 

_Perfect._

She rushes away, holding her stomach with one hand as she maneuvers around trees and steps carefully over uneven terrain. At this point, tripping is the enemy. Any accidental smack or impact could kick start labour, and she wanted to avoid that for as long as possible.

When she can no longer hear him talking aloud to himself she stops, then rips down the top of her dress and exposes her sore bosom to the fall air. _Much better_. 

Xayah takes her right breast in one hand and after having a quick moment of unfamiliarity with their recent heft (despite it having been close to thirty months in the making she still wasn’t used to being pregnant) massages at it with the other, doing little half circles pushing towards the nipple. 

It didn’t feel as good as when Rakan did it. Unbidden, she thinks of his body bending over hers, holding her still, mouth going closer and closer until he finally takes her in, suckling from her until she’s sobbing and unable to give him any more… She shivers as the memory sent a tingle through her, and banishes the thought from her mind.

_Later._

They needed no further persuasion. Watery white droplets pearl from her teat in abundance and dripple down her boob to soak into her dress. _Damn it_. She should have grabbed a handkerchief or a washcloth. Now Rakan was definitely going to know. Mood soured from the drag of her stupid mistake, she huffed and switches to the other. 

When this first started, it used to be a strange yellow-y colour, _colostrum_ as she remembered the doctor _explaining long ago_ , but after a few days it had switched over to what she knew breastmilk to properly look like.

It’s a fairly brief session by their standards; she stops after they stop feeling quite so compacted and slips her clothes back on.

When she returns to him, his circle has the words _‘Rakan <3 Xayah & Rakan Jr._’ inside of it and has a bigger heart surrounding the outside of it.

“We’re not naming our baby Rakan Jr.” She repeats with a tiny smile.

“We’ll see.” Rakan circles back around and takes her hand in his once again. “Ready to keep going?” 

“Yes. Do you know how much farther to where we’re headed?” It was at this point that they were searching for somewhere properly safe. They had no permanent home. Rakan was adamant about finding a place warm and sheltered but nowhere was good enough for him. It was almost a paradox - they were still on the road, exposed and at risk because he wanted somewhere _perfect_. Nowhere too close to humans. Nowhere too near another tribe. 

It was some primal instinct in him that honestly she didn’t mind too much. She had gotten used to it over the past twenty-eight months.

He wanted them to make it to the mountains before… _everything_ , but Xayah secretly doubted they’d get there in time. But she wasn’t going to complain, all the moving around helped her feel like she was doing something productive. Waiting around for the event would just make her feel restless and anxious. 

“Of course! We’ll be there in no time.” He gives her a pointed look, the one he gets where he clearly knows something’s up _\- damn his crazy good intuition_ \- and asks gently; “Are you doing okay?” Then his eyes flick down and back up while Xayah silently curses her bad luck. Her dress is clearly showing a damp spot, and she pulls her wing-cloak tighter around herself.

“Yes, sweetheart. Let’s keep going, okay?” She hugs his arm and rubs herself against it for a second before pulling back and interlacing their fingers. She wanted him. But they were going to have to wait. He leans down to kiss the crown of her head, taking a hearty sniff as he does so.

“You smell good.” He remarks casually. 

She laughs and slides her cowl back on. _Gods he was weird_.

“Come on, let’s go.”

  


(-)

Usually Rakan was hard to wrangle. He’d meander far off the path, getting lost in his mind and in the environment.

When they held hands he’d attempt to wander sometimes but their linked arms served as a tether, keeping him more focused at the task at hand. Though he seldom got out of her sight now, protective as he was.

They walked and chatted about anything and everything. When they fell into a comfortable silence together, Rakan let it stand for only a few minutes before telling a story about a little boy who was born with the rare gift of being able to see the colour of magic - _a kind of weird greenish purple_ -and changed the colour of his feathers every day in his quest to replicate its hue. However he was never able to accomplish it accurately and grew to become a painter in his lifelong quest to show others what things looked like from his eyes.

 _He learned to weave silk too,_ Rakan added, _and the clothes he made were as close as he could get to the shimmering, impossible-to-describe colour. Only one garment he made still survives, and it’s in the hands of my Grandfather. He showed it to me once as a child and I never forgot it._ Rakan speaks fondly, eyes distant with memories.

There was no lesson here, no parable or moral to be passed along. Sometimes, a story was just a story, and Rakan knew hundreds of those.

It was a good distraction. But each hour she felt heavier and _heavier_ , the pull of gravity more oppressive. Did her expressing it earlier make it worse? Eventually Rakan’s voice became background noise while every step makes her bounce uncomfortably, too aware of the teasing drag of her nipples against fabric each time she twists her torso or turns too fast. _It was not nearly enough._

_No._

She shakes her head and readjusts her cloak. Only a few hours to go. If she focused on it too much, she’d end up leaking again. 

By the time they sat down to share supper, she has to pull her knees close and leans over them like a flopped lump.

When they first started this…. _Arrangement_ , Rakan had only been able to draw a few swallows from each side, and those were shallow - not even close to being a proper mouthful.

After that it took half a week for her to get to that point of bloating again, upon which time Rakan so _graciously_ took it upon himself to help once again.

It was slow like that for a while. Then she’d swell to the point of painful pressure every three days reliably, then two, then _every_ day, and it wasn’t fixed with just an intermittent, shallow pull from Rakan either. Now he could reliably throw his arms around her and pull till his cheeks are full before swallowing, and he’d still be there for several minutes if he wanted to empty one side completely. (Which the glutton _always_ did.) This abundance had to be his fault, somehow. Something about him must be causing her body to want to produce more and more milk.

But this wasn’t all bad. When the baby was born, she would definitely have enough to satiate its appetite and then some, where-as the usual fare was to have milk production slightly lag at a rate that meant the baby was always wanting more than what she had to offer. Thanks to her mate, this would probably not be the case.

The only question now was whether or not she’d be able to satiate Rakan’s appetite too. He hated having to share, and by this point he’d _clearly_ acquired a taste for her.

Even more reason to let him enjoy what he had now, while there was no competition. 

She was going to wait to satisfy her own needs. This could wait till after supper.

  


(--)

Rakan and her set up their tent, start a fire and unpack their supper; smoked bear meat and dried pomelos from a trader they’d met on the road. She ate the fruit with happy, sweet sounds and licked the juice off her fingers in an equally enthusiastic fashion while sitting leaned against Rakan’s side. He’d bought them because he knew they were one of her favourites; they were probably the last of the season. She swallowed the last of the sticky red-orange fruit and kisses his shoulder as he hugs her to his side, watching the fire.

For once, he’d eaten his fair share too and didn’t try to pawn off a larger portion onto her. _Good._

He deserves a treat.

So she moans theatrically and stretches her back, then slides her cloak around so her front is visible before making it vanish entirely. Her breasts are protruding, practically popping out of her dress. They rhythmically throbbed from the edging treatment of being ignored for nearly twenty-four hours.

“I’ve been thinking about this all day.” She detaches from his side, climbs onto his lap and kisses him softly, sucking his lower lip between hers before giving it a tiny nibble.

“I was watching.” Rakan breathes between kisses, pulling her forward as far as possible so she could straddle him better. “It must be _unbearable_ , sweetheart. Why don’t you let me help?”

She had his attention. Time to rile him up a little - he was always more dominant if she teased him first. Xayah blows a strand of hair out of her face with a puff of breath. 

“Earlier I had to go express some out with my hands.” 

Rakan freezes.

“Oh?”

He’s gripping hard at her back, strong dense arms locking her in place. His eyes are _hungry_ , narrowed with want and she smiles; he’s not going to let her go now, and she’s tempted to wiggle a little just to feel him forcing her back in place. She tries to scoot back - his fingers dig in and hold her firm. Her smile widens.

“I hated it. The whole time I was wishing it was you.” She slides her hands over his shoulders and down his back, enjoying the feel of packed muscle before sliding them back to her own chest.

“You should’ve told me baby. I would have been happy to help… I don’t like you uncomfortable like that for no reason.” 

He pulls down her dress roughly and it dematerialises as it parts her skin, then hoists her up into his arms. It felt like it took no effort at all, and that thrilled her like nothing else. He was stronger than what anyone ever gave him credit for.

Rakan carries her into their tent and sits them both down upon their bedrolls. He props up a pile of blankets and pillows behind her so she wasn’t flat on her back, and when she lifts her arms to pull at his clothes he dissolves them back into dust before climbing over her with clear conviction. With him over her she always felt smaller, dwarfed by his broadness and height, even as she had swollen from his seed.

“Sweetie, I’m sorry. I just couldn’t _help_ it.” She rubs her breasts in front of him deliberately slowly and tries to wiggle a bit out from under him, but strong hands at her hip stopped her. She wants to purr from satisfaction. 

“I didn’t want to bother you.” She says sweetly, and presses in slightly harder at her bosom. She can _feel_ it, any further and she’d start leaking. Rakan seems to know this too, because he grabs her hands by the wrists and pulls them away forcefully until they’re pinned between the cushions and her back. She swoons internally, and tries to hold back a giggle. Rakan tuts at her.

“Oh sweetheart, you can’t be touching that.” He squeezes her thigh for emphasis. “That’s for _me_ to do.”

She tries giving a gentle thrust with her hips and Rakan smirks. One of his strong hands still pins both of her extremities to her back, the other still holds her firm at her right hip. Xayah pulls slightly with her arms as a test, and is satisfied when Rakan just holds her harder.

_Good._

Her legs wrap around his hips and she _waits._

Rakan wasn’t that good at being patient. He had been waiting all day after all. Surely he wouldn’t keep her much longer. _Surely_. 

He noses down her neck and kisses the dip before the sternum. Their tent flap is still open, and she can feel the heat off of their fire at her back. Rakan likes her bathed in firelight - he said it brought out the gold of her eyes. She liked it too - his golden feathers always looked spectacular like this, like he was the sun itself.

Rakan could probably tell some story about lovers, some fated story of the sun and moon. She’d ask him for one later, if she remembered.

“Let’s see what you’ve got for me. Are you sore, baby?” The hand holding her hip migrates up in typical fashion up her body, happily stroking up her abdomen to end at her breasts. His thumb brushes over her right nipple; the rest hardly even touches her. Then he winks. “They seem heavier than usual… I wonder why.”

He’s teasing her. He _has_ to be. Xayah pouts.

“And whose fault is that?” She quips back, and Rakan smiles guilelessly back. Of course he knew. _Was it his plan all along?_

“Then I’ll take responsibility.” He wiggles his eyebrows.

She bites her lip. It had to be soon. Please, _she needed him now_. She’d be building up all day; and this aching want of someone to drink from her for some semblance of relief was getting unbearable.

Her earlier attempts that day hadn’t made it much better, if anything it made her realise all the more what she was missing. Her mouth is dry. She swallows, throat trembling.

“Please?” She entices. “Honey… I’m so _full_. I need you.”

Rakan’s still watching her face. His eyes burn like cold ice.

“When you’re like this… I dunno if I can control myself.” Rakan admits, drinking her in _(unfortunately)_ with only sight. When he looks at her like this it’s like she’s the only person in the world, the only one that ever mattered. Her heart trembles a little bit, and she has to avert her eyes for a second.

He licks his lips again once again and this time, squeezes. 

She gasps. Involuntarily tries to jolt up, and finds Rakan holding her still through the hand on her bosom. 

“Stay still sweetheart. Be good for me. I need you nice and wet first.”

_Oh._

He was in _this_ kind of mood.

She takes a breath and holds it before he squeezes again and it leaves her lungs in a quick puff. 

“Don’t try to hold yourself back.” He says. “I want to hear you.”

She shakes her head.

“Sweetie, if you push again -“

“- I know.” He kisses her collarbone, Because of their height difference he can reach, but not well enough to hit her lips while in a position to be sheathed inside her. If anything, this pregnancy was a piss-off because the contact they could achieve together was less than normal when trying to go face to face. 

“I like you like this, but I wish it was easier to get at you.” He admits, abandoning her breast to kiss just above her bellybutton. Big surprise - he had only been springing hard-ons when he looked at her for the past two and a half years.

Then he releases her trapped hands and slides away before she can get a hold on him. Even her thighs are unable to grasp him well enough - the watermelon sized lump in between them made too much space for him to escape from.

He spreads her legs, grabbing both of her lower thighs and pushing them far apart.

_Oh no. Oh no no no no._

Not this. She hated this. 

“Rakan, don’t you dare - !“ 

A tongue dips to her clit as an answer. Xayah squeals and tries to slam her legs shut to no avail. He pushes against the pea sized organ relentlessly, starting first with soft strokes but pushing in hard intermittently. She can feel his ears tickling the soft inner skin of her thighs, and the tingling in her groin starts to slowly build, burning lower and spreading deeper.

Not good enough. She was so _empty_. How could she be so damnably _full_ but so empty at the same time?? Her breasts were sore and engorged to the point of bursting, and her belly was abundant and pushing heavy pressure onto her bladder. Yet her sex was throbbing, neglected and devoid. Rakan was too busy holding her greater trochanter joint, spreading her thighs and pushing down her hips all at once. He had no fingers left to penetrate her with.

She couldn’t reach his head or shoulders as her belly was in the way, too big to reach over, and too cumbersome to be able to bend her torso up enough to gain the extra reach. She was powerless.

Slick runs out of her and she whimpers. 

“Good girl.” Rakan pulls away just to praise her, glinting with achievement, then returns to his original task of _torturing_ her, sliding his tongue back over her clit and then down to her entrance, tasting her but only barely slipping inside. 

_Why was he like this?_ He knew she hated it if it went on for too long - she enjoyed having something in her, otherwise she just felt dissatisfied and hollow after orgasming. Rakan’s fingers were okay, but his dick was even better and she was twenty-eight months along with his child, shouldn’t he be more considerate??

Xayah contracts and shivers lightly when he probes slightly deeper; feels more proof of her arousal slide down from _inside_ , past his tongue and out of her hole. Her face grows hot with embarrassment but Rakan makes a happy noise. 

“There you go.” He kisses her thigh in what she supposed was intended to be a soothing matter. “That’s right baby. Get worked up for me.” 

She squirms again against his arms, struggled to close her legs - maybe then he’d get the hint - but Rakan tuts again and kisses her folds, dips his tongue in as deep as it can go. It’s moist and hotter than flame to her, and involuntarily she bears down on it with a whine - so dissatisfying _small, she needs something thicker_ \- and more warmth drips out of her, much to Rakan’s pleasure.

He wasn’t going to stop anytime soon. Time to fight fire with fire.

Her hands _were free_. Though he and her groin was out of reach, her own chest still was. So she leads her hands up and pinches her own nipples, pressing hard and pushing up. If she could get herself to leak, then he would _definitely_ get redirected. He wouldn’t let any of it go to waste.

Xayah moans, too loudly to have been from him teasing her. He knew her well enough by now.

With that, Rakan’s no longer between her legs. She doesn’t even have the time to feel satisfaction of victory before they’re face to face again, him pushing her hands off her breasts and shoving their lips together. He tastes like her precome; slightly citric, slightly bitter.

Now that he’s within arm’s reach she can start phase two of the plan. She wraps her arms around him like she never intends to let him go. Then, she pushes hard with one leg and flips him.

Pinning Rakan down was different; his dexterity was astronomical, surpassing that of any mortal man and most other Vastaya. She hardly ever got the satisfaction from pinning him, since any attempts to hold him down had the underlying idea that he was allowing it to happen, (not just consenting but rather physically) since any actual attempts for him to thwart her in this regard would succeed instantly. 

It took some of the fun out of it. But only _some._

Still, he’s below her now, and it feels _good._

She orients herself on top of him, sitting on his hips. Rakan lets her settle before pulling himself up higher, back into a sitting position so he could attempt to kiss her again. She shakes her head and pushes him back down, and he accepts it with a coy smile.

“Stay there.” She commands, and he winks. He’s half hard - not to anyone’s surprise - and she takes it in her hand and guides it into her with little fanfare. Once it’s in she grins in triumph. _Finally_. Pushing down firmly on his arms with her hands and bracing her thighs on either side of his hips, she raises herself and drops.

 _Good_. But not quite good enough. She tries again, and drops with more of a dip. Her belly drops with her, the weight pulling on her abdomen with all the unhelpful assistance of gravity. 

Rakan looks like he wants to help; she can see it in his face, in his watchful expression. His arms are letting her keep them down, but if she gave any kind of sign that she wanted his assistance, he’d rise to the occasion immediately.

 _No_. She could do this. Xayah bites her cheek and keeps trying; thighs starting to burn and sweat beading on her brow. Up and drop, up and drop; the area was quiet besides the sounds of her effort.

It wasn’t enough. She couldn’t get him deep enough like this, leaning forward over him and trying to impale herself using her thighs alone. She was strong there, but she underestimated the heft of her own belly, and how much she relied on his and her hands.

She was starting to get tired.

The next time she sinks onto him, she stops, breathing heavy, and frees Rakan’s arms. He tilts his head, looking questionably at her and she briefly nods.

Eyes softening in understanding, he sits back up and hugs her as well as he is able in this position.

“I’ve got you Miella.” He murmurs with his head pressed over her heart. “Let’s do it together.”

 _That’s it._ Xayah eases off and relaxes her body as he lifts her with seemingly no effort to turn her to face the opposite direction, and sits her on his lap once again with her back now flush to his front.

 _Reverse._ They hadn’t done it this way in a while. They both preferred getting to watch each other’s expressions too much. 

“Tell me if you feel uncomfortable.” He says, and his voice from behind her is oddly comforting. She lolls her head back to rest on his shoulder, and he dips his own forward to kiss her neck.

“I will.” She promises. “Just… please move.” She doesn’t think she can take waiting anymore.

Rakan has her spread in seconds and slides himself into her slick passage with no difficulty before feeling her up from top to bottom, still yet to move.

“I’m sorry you’re still full here.” He cups her breasts and she almost winces. “I made you wait the whole day, just give me a little longer.”

“Y-yeah.” She breathes. “Just - “

He kisses her neck again.

“- I know.” 

Her belly is his next object of attention, occupying himself with rubbing it slowly with big circles. Inside, she can feel his dick twitch and she almost huffs from exasperation. Was it that _attractive_ to him? He called her beautiful every day, but this she still had a hard time accepting. One hand slides below the curve of her bump and gives an experimental lift, checking the weight of her gravid tummy. She hears Rakan make a happy sound in his throat before shuffling a tiny bit on his thighs.

Then he lifts her, slightly up, and meets her return with a thrust. Her thighs tremble, but she manages to help lift herself before he repeats the movement for the second time. 

He supports her bump with one hand, and helps lift with his other hand under her thigh. She feels so much lighter, like she just lost a third of her own weight.

The eighth thrust hits particularly deep. Xayah gasps and reflexively tightens.

“Did you like that?” He purrs into her ear. “My love, do you like my cock that much? Even after all the trouble it’s gotten you into?” Rakan presses down lightly on her tummy and it sends pressure straight to her bladder, quivering and strained.

She finds herself nodding, and Rakan hums.

“Well, do you like it enough to get on your hands and knees? Once I get erect I won’t be able to get fully inside you like this. It’s your choice, my love.”

Xayah would let him do anything at this point. She just needs him in her and as deep as he could go.

So he carefully rearranges their position so that she is below him once again. When he pulls out of her she whines in protest, but he shushes her and helps her onto her elbows, shoving pillows under them to help prop her up and returns to behind her.

Yet, he doesn’t slide back into her. Not right away. She can’t see from this position - even if she tried looking backwards between her arms she’d be blocked by her breasts and full belly - but then his fingers are prodding at her mound and taking the slow path down from her clitoris to her exposed minora, swollen and febrile from the increased blood flow of both her breeding and his teasing.

“You’re wetter now than I think I’ve ever gotten you.” Rakan states in an awed tone, twisting the fragile skin through two fingers and chafing them against each other. It was sensitive in the unbearable ticklish way that gave a slight tingling but never built up to harder than that.

More clear secretions slip from between her folds as she shudders. Rakan coats his fingers and pulls them away. After a second, there’s the soft click of his cheeks meeting his tongue, and she has a pretty good idea of what just happened.

“You always taste better when you’re worked up.” He admits once his wet fingers return to her hips, “and I’m hoping it’ll apply to these too.” Rakan gropes a firm breast with his dry hand, and this time she pushes her ass back, rocking it in the air.

If he didn’t take her now for real, she was going to _die._

She says so aloud, and tries to sound at least a _little_ bit threatening. He chuckles like he doesn’t believe her, but gets behind her proper anyway.

His tip brushes her entrance, and Xayah closes her eyes and holds her breath. He misses it purposely the first few thrusts; sliding it back and forth against her labia a few times - teasing _again_ \- but on the third time he properly inserts himself.

There’s more to him than there was a few minutes ago. After the initial few inches he keeps pushing, and _pushing_ , until his full length is sheathed into her, bottoming out just as his testicles brush against her opening. After a few seconds she feels his member swell further, taking up any extra space easily with its expanded girth. Instinctively she squirms, body resisting getting filled any more than she already was, but Rakan holds her taut and waits until her canal relaxes in acceptance before letting go. 

She was ruined, she knows no other guy can ever have her - Rakan had made sure of that. She hoped that she somehow had done the same for him. 

Once in and snug, he drapes himself a little over her back, returns two fingers to her clit while he supports her distended stomach with the other hand.

“Could you come like this?” He strokes at her clitoris again as he pushes up at the heavy swell of her abdomen.

Xayah shakes her head; she didn’t trust herself to speak right now.

“ _No?_ It feels like you could.” 

She shakes her head again. She wants to swallow and wet her dry throat, but even the thought of that tiny extra bit of pressure makes her fear that she’d pop. Testing her answer, Rakan pushes in again at her pregnant tummy, and the weight goes straight to her groin, forcing her vagina to compress further around his cock and crushing her bladder till it took all her strength not to dribble.

He pauses, as though waiting for something. When she does nothing but breathe heavily, he says;

“Let me help you out, then.”

That’s all the warning she gets.

When he pulls out, he removes three quarters of himself before pushing back in with a snap of his hips. The force pushes her and the pillows a little forward, and she tries to keep a more solid grip for the next thrust but it doesn’t work. 

She cries out, her vocalisations coming in tiny, gasping bursts as he takes her. He’s supporting her weight, and seeing her trouble holds her abdomen more securely, pulling her back to help meet him each time. Gravity’s pulling at her breasts, and each time she jostles from his thrusts they swing far too much, hard and tender as they are. By the time he’s increasing his pace she barely notices the release of her pent up milk, finally fed up with her neglect and dripping from her breasts onto the bedding beneath them. 

Xayah wants to hold him; feels a strange mix of wanting to cry and kiss him at all once as she stares at their bedding, the cadence of their lovemaking taking all she had. She feels used yet loved, shamed yet worshipped. Rakan was everything - _how did she deserve such a thing?_

Each surge hits some spot deep inside that throbs happily as it’s abused. The ripple of pleasure starts there, deep at that core, then spreads down the nerves like wildfire until finally it reaches the outer rim of her sex and builds there steadily until it’s unbearable, screaming to be acknowledged.

He belongs to her, just as she belongs to him. Her limbs tremble as she comes early, squeezing around him, muscles pulling him in as far as it could go, as far as she could bear. She gasps his name and the world becomes just them, choking on the feeling of him filling her. To his credit, Rakan reacts quickly and holds her as much as she can manage from behind, wrapping one arm around her torso and holding both of them up with the rest of his limbs he presses to the ground. 

She wishes they were facing each other, but that would come.

When he lowers them down to lay together on their bedroll she notices Rakan was still hard, _somehow_. He traces a hand up to her chest, and at once she understands.

He was saving the best for last. 

“You’re leaking.” He wipes away the pearlescent beads with errant fingers, and moves over her with an oddly serious expression.

“Yeah…” Xayah breathes, still floating from her orgasm. She had been to the point of leaking all _day_ , and with his teasing she had almost forgotten the main point of all this. So she shuffles on her back until she’s at a good angle and ushers him over.

Rakan kisses her lips again, making her comfortable, warming her up again. When he noses down between her breasts she sighs happily, waiting for whenever he was ready. A few kisses to her sternum and he drapes over her side so he could remain inside of her while indulging. It didn’t strain her too much to have him still inside her, not yet.

He seems tired of waiting too, and places his open mouth over her nipple, sliding arms around her softly and anchoring her in a net of safety. When he draws in, _(the first pull always so tentative_ ) the let down is immediate, flowing easily from deep inside her breast to his greedy mouth while she moans in relief; tension of the whole day finally sapping away. Each suck makes her melt more and more until she was soft as putty in his arms. She can feel it being drawn out of her heavy breasts, pressure relieving with each pull of milk from her tissues. Then he thrusts again, timing it slow and lazily along with his suckling.

That, she had only been half expecting. Xayah mewls and shakes; too sensitive from recent orgasm to go again _that_ fast. Still, he continues languidly, taking it slowly for her sake, happy to patiently stoke up the embers of her pleasure back into a fire.

He pulls even after she’s empty, teasing the hard nipple against his tongue like a dare for her to produce more.

She would if she could. She’d give him all of her so long as he would keep holding her like this.

  


Finally he gets tired of feeding from an empty teat, and switches over to her still-plump twin. This one he takes faster and Xayah feels her interest stirring again, a dead fire raised back to life as she lethargically rubs his back and tries to remember how to breathe. Her lower limbs still feel slightly numb in that ‘ _just got well fucked’_ kind of way, but the fact that he’s drinking her down and fucking her like he wants to put another baby in her makes her flushed and turned on in a way much more mental than physical.

It’s still too soon to get that electric buzz of ecstasy but she orgasms a second time anyway, inner walls unable to do much more than weakly flutter around him in her exhaustion.

It’s enough for Rakan apparently. His hips stutter in their rhythm and wet warmth leaks deep inside of her while he’s still swallowing from her half full breast. His back is shaking; Xayah clutches his hair in a daze until that nub too had nothing left to give. Yet, he suckled still for minutes longer - an encouragement to her body to give more in the future.

Xayah’s too boneless to do anything but let him have his way, even though each suck now made her oversensitive nerves cry out in a mixture of pleasure and pain. When he finishes with her bosom ( _removing himself almost reluctantly with a satisfied smack of his cheeks_ ) he pulls out of her at the same time and the sensation of being empty feels so foreign. His essence already is starting to drip out of her - when she wasn’t so big she’d usually request for him to stay in her a little longer, at least until she fell asleep, but as they were now it wasn’t possible.

Rakan arranges them for sleep, adjusting pillows and pulling blankets that had been kicked down to their feet up around them before collapsing next to her and snuggling into her side. He wraps the blankets around her snug before pulling her to rest half on top of him; their bed a cocoon of warmth and comfort. She hums at him drowsily as a noncommittal acknowledgement, nuzzles into the junction of neck and chest and breathes in his masculine scent as her eyes finally slip shut.

He didn’t need to say anything aloud - his feelings had always been clear as day. The word love always sounded sweeter when it fell from his lips.

 _Tomorrow_ , she decided, her last thought before falling asleep; _she would say ‘no’ again._

__  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... still debating on whether I'll do a pt 3. So for now, I'm marking this as "finished". Thank you for reading, hope you enjoyed!


	3. MultiPara

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Round 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry. You ever get dared to write pregnant bird smut, then you do it, then your friend tells you to go harder and then you actually do it again. I was encouraged to write this and it just escalated. I hope at least one person likes this. I shall never write smut ever again.  
> \-------------

It’s been months since she’s given birth; recovered in the following weeks through plenty of rest and coddling. Vesryn was laid swaddled away in the corner, sated and sleeping like a log. He often slept through the night now, which was a blessing to both of them. 

Where romance was concerned, Rakan would often take her by the hands and dance with her while the baby was slung across her back or her front. Other times they’d lay together and snuggle while laid out in the sun or under the stars. They were too tired to do anything else. 

But as her body recovered, so did her want for affection. 

It didn’t change the growing tendrils of want wrapping around her core. The doubts came easily. _Did he even want her anymore_? Had her birthing him a child made her unappealing to him or did he view her as solely a mother now, not a lover? Not that she minded the breaks, the worship and the pampering. It’s just… their souls were one. Metaphorically now, but someday literally - as the customs of their people allowed. It would only make sense for their bodies to follow suit, once in a while. 

Time for that was short now, unfortunately. But every week, the baby got easier to settle, slept a little longer at night, and drank more from her chest. Enough that she no longer required Rakan to settle their leaking hardness throughout the day, but not nearly enough to relieve the majority of their aching pressure. Vesryn’s stomach was only the size of a cherry after all, and Rakan had ensured she produced many times that before she even had the baby. 

She needed to do something different. Time for drastic measures. 

When she pulls Vesryn onto her breast, Rakan would often scurry over to drape around them both. He wanted to feel like he was a part of the ritual, like he was helping somehow. 

This time, he sits so she’s tucked between his legs, and she sighs in contentment, much louder and exaggerated than necessary. Rakan lightly kisses her hair, the crown of her head, preoccupied with showering her with sugary sweet affection. Pure and protective. 

Xayah wanted something spicier than that. Pretending to shift Vesryn’s positioning, she instead slides down that arm and runs it along Rakan’s wrapped pants, rubbing where she feels his soft member. He freezes in his line of kisses; breathing turning curt. As quickly as it starts, it ends; her pulling away her appendage and pretending nothing had even happened. 

(*) 

Next step was easy. When she slides on her day clothes she forgoes her underwear, forming the fabric tight around her bottom and thighs, cutting the slit as always up to her hip. She hadn’t dressed this way since before the baby was born, since back when she was still allowed to be in combat. 

Rakan’s chattering with her about random things, background noise a happy start to their day, but he cuts off abruptly and hisses the moment she bends over to gather Vesryn from his temporary crib, and she can feel Rakan’s eyes boring into her back. 

“Problem?” She asks, and his voice sounds strangely higher when he replies; 

“Of course not honey.” 

She grins when her back is to him, and slides the baby into his sling along her front. He’d probably noticed. That’s all that matters. 

It was a few hours with his distracted self before she amped it up a little, stretching as often as possible, leaning over to pick up inane things from the ground whenever the opportunity came. They run into a traveler while on the roads, and Rakan keeps her pulled to her side with his wings around them both, and internally she happily melts at his possessiveness. 

When Vesryn starts to fuss, she sits and crosses her legs, angling them up as high as possible to the point where she could intimately feel each breeze before preoccupying herself with feeding and burping the baby. Rakan sits next to her and the arm he slings around her back ends up at her lower hip, brushing the open slit of her dress. When he finger starts to wander a bit under it she slaps it away with her free hand, a teasing action that awaits a response. Disappointingly he backs off; the hand repositioning to rest higher. 

That night, when she’s sure he’s asleep she takes her own hand to her privates, rubbing at her neglected clit and slipping fingers inside her empty hole. It’s not as good as Rakan, not by a long shot, but it’s been so long since he’s last taken her -since Vesryn was born - that her digits feel much larger than they usually did. She pushes in at her g-spot and rubs faster at her hood; faster and faster until she felt the slight spark of pleasure bubble and disperse. It was a soft almost underwhelming orgasm, but it was one all the same and it would hold her through the next few days. 

Only a few strokes after and there’s movement to her left. Rakan’s awake. He probably could smell her. 

“Do you need help?” He asks slyly, rolling to her and stretching over for her lips. She gives him the kiss, but little else. 

“I just finished.” She replies sweetly and pulls out her fingers to rub them dry on the sheets between them, wrinkling her nose a little at the strong scent of her own come. She’s not actually done, not by a long shot, but it was worth it just to get him riled up. “You were a bit late sweetheart. But that’s okay.” She gives him another quick peck on the lips before turning back onto her other side and trying to stay as still as possible. 

“Goodnight.” It’s a closer, a clear one. 

He stays there, rebuffed and staring at her back for a few more seconds before settling back down, spooning around her and pressing his groin against her bottom. She can hear him take a few deep breaths through his nose. 

_Rakan’s hard. Good_ . 

He was going to have a hard few days. 

(**) 

Xayah liked not wearing panties around Rakan. At first it had been a little weird, but now a few days in she was really getting used to it. She liked the way it’d cause him to stare, liked the way he’d hover if they ran into other people or if there was a strong breeze. He grabbed her ass once when she had knelt over to pick up the soother Vesryn dropped, and the feeling of having his hands on her was so good she almost lewdly moaned aloud. 

But she had more self-control than that, so she didn’t. 

What she had less control over was her own reproductive system, and the rush of hormones and wetness which flashed in a bolt of heat through her core couldn’t be ignored. Rakan’s nostrils flare a little, but he turns away and busies himself just as quickly. 

Xayah smirks and shakes her head. 

When they stop to bathe, she hands him the baby and asks him to keep watch, then dashes in with no further waiting for a response. He wouldn’t come join if he felt like he had to guard her so she strips freely and washes herself alone, in eyeshot of her mate but yet still too far to get a clear visual. She makes sure to take her time slowly rubbing soap through her upper body and rinsing her hair and wings. Then, in a flash of devilish inspiration she rubs at her own breasts, moaning and pressing until she feels milk leak out of her ducts. She pushes till she can’t stand it and the droplets turned the water around her waist a light cloudy grey, then wrings out her hair does a final dip as a rinse and wades back to shore with only her lower body covered by a drying cloth. Xayah knows her breasts are still dribbling a little without even looking down, judging by their tightness and the fact that Rakan is staring transfixed at a point definitely below her face. She reaches for Vesryn and takes him out of Rakan’s frozen arms soundlessly, slid herself into his tiny, rooting mouth with a little moan then says; 

“Your turn now. I’ll keep watch.” And gives him a playful, light kick in the thigh to snap him out of his stun and get him moving. 

He’s reluctant to leave, fingers clenching and unclenching, but he does as she bids. 

Xayah almost laughs aloud - what kind of game were they playing? Either way, it was _fun_. 

(*)(*)(*) 

That night, tucked away behind rock sung to be shaped like a room, with the baby sound asleep and Rakan dead to the world at her side she goes for round two. Ran her hands over her chest a little to wake up her body and thought of her mate. She missed him grabbing her, pinning her, _marking_ her. Sure he still was cuddly with her now, and she enjoyed lovey-dovey romance as much as any woman, but she wanted Rakan to be a man and show her the extent of his lust as well. 

She missed him holding her still and feeding from her, forcing her to produce more for his insatiable appetite, warmly rubbing her flank and praising her all the while. That’s the thought that finally bids her to return her fingers to her sex and pretend Rakan was stretching her apart. 

A strong hand grabs her wrist, freezing her just as she reached her pubis. Xayah almost jumps from the abruptness. 

“Can’t sleep?” He asks, voice not sounding at all drowsy. _He must have laid there awake for over an hour_. 

“Just about to, actually.” She replies, voice only a little shaken. It had been nearly a week, but she wanted to play this game a little longer, if Rakan would let her. 

Rakan hums and moves over, pulling her arm up and away from her groin and pinning it to her side instead. 

“Is that so?” 

“Yes.” She thinks she sounds confident, but the look Rakan gives her would make her think otherwise. 

“Because I think you’ve been wanting this for a while now.” He says, pushing a hand down to rub her thigh. 

“Oh?” She tilts her head and tries to act nonchalant, but him grabbing her thigh makes her want to just spread for him and let him take her right now. No prep needed - the past week had been nothing but foreplay for this very moment. 

“ - Or was your decision to not wear panties just a fashion choice?” He asks coyly, eyes narrowed almost to slits. “Did you think I didn’t notice? Leaning over in front of me, raising the hem on the skirt every day… touching yourself at night. It always smelled like you when I woke up, but it was always too late. It drives me mad, you know.” 

She _did_ know. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. You must be mistaken.” She smiles sweetly at him, and Rakan snorts in amusement and nips her in the neck. 

“Uh huh.” He nips once more, harder, and pulls back, a bright vision of excitement above her. “So I think tonight should be special! Something we haven’t done in a while.” 

Her pulse starts to race. _Something they haven’t done in a while_ … That could only mean a few things - and all of them good. 

“Alright then.” She says slowly, like she needs any more convincing. “Show me what you have in mind.” 

\-------------(*) 

Now that she was recovering, almost back to her normal, she was much more open to relations. Tonight he had a _plan_. Just because she had birthed him a son didn’t mean he no longer found her physically desirable - if anything it made her more so. She was so _strong_ \- it was captivating. Holding her hand at that moment had been the happiest he’s ever been. 

They lie together, spooning nude in their makeshift bed of blankets and woven sleeping mats. Rakan kept rubbing her side, mouthing at her neck. 

Tonight was the best opportunity they’ve had in a while for some kind of physical affection. The only thing now was whether or not she was up for it. He wouldn’t push it if she was too sore, too tender. The swelling around her vagina had gone down, and her tummy had slowly returned back to its normal size, flat and soft. The only thing that remained of proof of that undertaking was the pigmented line, slightly darker than normal skin colour, running down her lower midline straight through the belly button to stop around her pubis. 

He had some things gathered for tonight, should she be interested. Nothing too crazy - but definitely something to spice it up. 

“Baby, are you sure you’re ready?” Rakan asks. 

“So long as we don’t wake Vesryn.” Xayah turns her head and rubs their noses together in a Freljordian kiss. “But if I get a little sore, I’ll tell you.” 

He thinks of his bag of items and asks; 

“Do you trust me to take care of you?” 

She gives him a weird look. This was an unspoken obvious between them, but she responds anyway. 

“Of course.” 

This had… layered meanings. She knew he was up to something now, but she’d seen his stake in dominance and accepted it easily. Rakan was ready. 

“But I’ve just fed Vesryn, so you’ll have to wait a little.” She continues as Rakan shakes his head. 

“No my love, that’s not what I had in mind.” 

Her plump lips went into a round ‘O’, but her eyes were curious. Rakan pushes their mouths together, toying with her lower lip. Now that she had given birth, they could fit together much more easily. Snuggling and making love would be a lot easier now. Still he missed the weight and warmth of her pregnant body even though it had been inconvenient. The only true remnant of that time still around was her milk-filled breasts - though he had to share those now with his son - a thing he’d gladly do. 

He retrieves the bag, pulling soft silk rope out of it and laying it at her feet. Xayah stares, face rapt. She knew what was coming; and seemed more than ready to play the part. Rakan unravels the rope, dropping it into a pile slowly in front of her as she watches. 

“It really has been a while since we’ve done this.” She says, not in a disinterested way, but certainly not falling all over herself with excitement. Then again she’d practise with hiding her emotions, so he would imagine this was still all part of the game - waiting for him to break her. 

They would need to de-materialise their wings for this. He comes to the conclusion the same time she does it seems, as they both reform in a glow of tiny blue lights and sink back into their bodies. 

She doesn’t resist when her arms and hands are tied firmly behind her back, then the soft fibers criss-crossing down her body until her thighs are strung up too, forced apart and held by her own resistance. They’re thick and strong, but even Xayah couldn’t fight against her own body’s strength. 

The last few items in the bag are what he’s most worried about. They hadn’t tried to this extent before. He watches her wiggle against the bondage, testing the strength of his knots and seeming satisfied with the results. She’s spread and functionally helpless before him; but he wants _more_. The only question is if _she_ wanted more as well. 

“Just two more things, okay baby?” He pulls the remaining items from the bag, one in each hand. In his right, soft thick cloth; A _blindfold_ . In the other, a gag. For a second, there’s slight nervousness in her expression, but when he strokes her cheek it dissipates. 

“Tell me if you don’t feel comfortable with this.” He says firmly, then runs his hands over her body while waiting for her response. If she wasn’t happy, he’d drop everything immediately. Nothing was more important than her safety and happiness. 

To her credit, she only pauses for a few seconds, eyes darting back between the items in his hand and up at his face. 

“I trust you to take care of me.” She bites her lip. “I’ll give you a sign if I want you to stop.” 

“Baby - “ 

“ - _Mieli_. Do you trust _me_?” 

He did. More than anyone he had ever known. She wouldn’t be afraid to speak up if this was bothering her. 

Rakan nods. Xayah gives him a small smile. 

“Then we’re fine. I love you.” 

The wave of affection that crashes over him is just as strong as it had been thirteen years ago. He curls over her and kisses her forehead. 

“I love you too. Want me to hold you for a bit?” 

She bites her lip. _So cute_ , he thinks and melts a little more on the inside. 

“I’m okay. You can do it if you want to, though.” 

That was Xayah talk for _yes, please_. Rakan picks her up like she was something precious, and holds her on his lap, chest to chest. It didn’t seem like the ropes were pulling too much at her, at least in this position. 

“Are you uncomfortable?” He asks; wraps his arms around her body as close as he could get and kisses her cheeks. She had such soft cheeks, the tattoos on them highlighting her beautiful face all the more. 

“No honey, I’m fine. Just…” 

“ - _Just_ …?” 

“I need you. Don’t make me beg.” 

On the contrary, it sounded like that was exactly what she wanted to do. He’d been thinking of this for the past week, ever since she had rubbed his member in broad daylight while breastfeeding their son and acted like nothing was strange. 

“May I?” He picks up the gag and blindfold again, waved it in front of her face, and waits patiently for her response. 

If she didn’t, that was okay. Just having her trounced and spread for him was more than good enough. 

But she nods without a trace of fear or hesitance. He dips to kiss her again nice and slow, pushing against her soft lips and dipping his tongue into her mouth. He would enjoy this - once she was gagged he wouldn’t get to kiss her for a while. 

Withdrawing, he slides the gag over her mouth and ties the black-checkered cloth behind her head. Not too tight, but not too loose that she could spit it out. 

Next would be the blindfold, a purple bolt of fabric made from silk. As he stares at her soft, golden eyes he’s floored by the trust there, second only to the warm love welling in their depths. He sighs as his own heart swells with affection and the urge to rip off the gag to kiss her almost overtakes him. He’d miss her eyes. That’d be the worst part of this - not being able to look through the windows to her soul as they made love. 

They hold extended eye contact, and he strokes her cheeks with both hands as he cups her face. She winks cheekily at him, and he chuckles. 

She’s ready. Had been ready for a week now. 

Then he ties the blindfold like he did the gag, keeping it tight so it wouldn’t slip but lose enough to not dig into her skin. 

Rakan keeps her on his lap facing him, taking a second to let her adjust. _Now what_? 

Technically, anything. 

“Should I tease you like you teased me?” He asks her, not expecting a response. Instead of shaking or nodding her head she makes a noise, greatly muffled by the gag. 

It sounded like a rather annoyed sounding _no_. 

This time, he does laugh. 

“’ _No_ ’?” 

She nods. 

“Well, we’ll see.” 

Now he surveyed her from top to bottom. What should he partake in first? Xayah was essentially a seven-course meal, all open and ready for him to taste at his leisure. 

Speaking of taste… 

His eyes jut down. 

Her breasts looked _amazing_ \- but what else was new? Since their beloved son was born he’d partaken much, _much_ less, (the newborn fed every three hours; it didn’t feel right to add to Xayah’s soreness) and it was something he missed if he was being honest. Something about being held by Xayah and getting to have her in every sense at once: her skin on his, her heart and breathing at his ear, the smell of her own natural scent and her milk filling his nose just as it filled his taste buds. 

Rakan cups her mounds and watches her reaction. _Not much of one_. She must have expected him to go for her breasts first. With a single squeeze he’s hit with slight disappointment - they’re not full, not even close, and he attributes that to Vesryn’s nighttime feeding as well as his own neglect of emptying her supply. He’d have to work towards fixing that. Now that the baby’s feedings were less frequent he could take from her without worry of none being left by the time Vesryn was hungry again. 

“You’re not ready for me to drink from you.” He passed a thumb over her rosy nipple, watches it bounce back after he flicks it. “I’d get hardly anything. Maybe in an hour or so? You think you can be nice and plump for then? I know you can do it sweetie.” 

If not, he’d feed from her anyway , till she was dry and then some, till she was whimpering and her body was roaring at her tissues to stop slacking and fill properly, not stopping unless everyone that wanted to take from her was satisfied. 

Rakan squeezed her left nipple one last time then left it be. He’d give her an hour. Working her up would help with this too. 

So he kisses her neck, nibbling then biting a crescent shaped mark there, applying suction until it blooms a beautiful maroon. 

“You’re beautiful.” He kisses the spot to soothe it and then makes an identical mark on her collar bone. “Did you know that Miella? Absolutely beautiful.” 

He lowers her down onto their sleeping mats onto her back, propping her with pillows and ensuring her weight was kept off her bound arms. Her legs were bent at the knee and splayed, restrained by the silk ropes. 

He needed her wanting, he needed her wet and cervix softened - how else would she get pregnant again with his child? She would hate the teasing, always had always would, but it was essential. Xayah’s spread like a T, body the straight line and legs open to him and him alone. Her chest rises and falls steadily - not worked up at all yet. Something he could fix. 

Rakan starts first near her knee, kissing where her smooth skin transitions into fluff and hard tendons. He kisses at her knee joint, moving up her left leg to her full thighs and placing further nips and bites up her inner thigh to the crease between leg and groin. 

“I love your legs - did I ever tell you? They’re so strong.” He traces along the muscle popping there, presses his thumb slightly into it. He refused to go any closer to her groin, and retreats to the other leg, biting a hickey onto her right leg until it’s trembling and pushing against the ropes. 

The scent of her was alluring, sweet and intoxicating. Rakan finally centers himself between her legs and leans in, brushing lips to her mound and placing his fingers at her inguinal line. It’d been a few months since she had the baby, and she’d recovered nicely, tightening back up and returning to a soft pink. He inhales nice and slow, breathing in the pheromones. Already he could almost taste her, and the thought of it makes him incapable of waiting further. 

He tongues around her clitoris first, doing light licks to either side of the organ which then became small circles. A shiver ran up her body as he sucked on the bulb, and her scent intensified. 

_Fertile_ . He could tell - had been smelling it for days. It was probably what made her start acting so teasingly towards him. They had been officially mated for years, but now since getting her with child her body probably was urging for her to do so again. 

Rakan could work with that. 

Her thighs are shaking, trying to close around his head but unable to do so due to the silken cords. He rubs over her leg and pulls on the rope lightly to apply pressure, just to remind her that the bindings were there and then returns back to her groin. 

While giving a particularly hard lick to her clit he uses two fingers to rub at her labia, stroking the delicate tissues before spreading them and moving his fingers to stroke around her hole instead, not entering but rather just tracing her entrance. It was going to be a long night of teasing and building her up. She could orgasm all she wanted, but he wasn’t going to penetrate her, not until she was begging and ready to be fucked good and proper. 

Xayah’s feet are furling and unfurling now, along with the trembling in her thighs. He can hear a muffled noise from above him, and feels her tense in a telltale way, then relax. Slick drips out of her next to his fingers, and he grins. 

“That didn’t take long.” He teases, “ready for me to clean you up?” She must have also been excited the past week to have been done so fast. It was satisfying to know it wasn’t only him in this. 

Rakan laps are her minora briefly, only as a polite formality to his next plan of attack. Keeping her spread with a hand he pushes his tongue deeper than the folds and slides down until he spears his way into her vagina, pushing in and out as deep as he could manage. She squirms; the ropes hold tight. Rakan hums and continues tasting her. 

She was sweet, saccharine and so undeniably Xayah, like nectar and pomelos. He couldn’t get enough; licked and swallowed while using his free hand to go back to rubbing at her clitoris, the soft organ was now swelling a bit; rounding with blood flow from arousal. 

When she comes again it’s with a weaker tightening, but she struggles more against the binding. He catches as much of her nectar as he can on his tongue, licks up her secretions and swallows it. 

“You taste delicious.” Rakan moves back up to hover over her on all fours, and eyes her breasts with envy. “Not as good as these…” He gives one a squeeze. “- But pretty close.” 

Laying atop her, he resumes kissing her neck, then down her sternum, midline to all around the belly button. A quick glance to her sex showed her glistening, and he resists the urge to return lower to taste her again. Instead he lines himself up with his manhood between her thighs, but only holds her, peppering smooches to any part he could reach. 

“My love, are you holding up okay?” He waits, and gets a shaky nod. 

“Okay, good.” She hated getting worked up with no release, but she hated getting a release without penetration even more. His tongue didn’t count. Or at least, that’s what she’d always said. 

“You know, I’ve been thinking about this for a while.” He says, nose at her hair. “Do you want another child as much as I do? It’s only another thirty months…. The time for this one went by so fast. Don’t you miss it?” 

He rubs her stomach, remembering how it was full of life only a few months ago. Near the end she had been so cuddly yet ferocious, sexy yet adorable. She’d get embarrassed over only the smallest things - kissing her ear, talking to her belly. At the same time, her appetite for him was insatiable, and his for her more so. 

“I can make you feel so good. You know that. Imagine how _good_ it’ll feel honey, if you just let me take you. You’d like that right?” He times a thrust to slide against her groin, not entering but rather just a teasing glide. He hears her muffled moan against the gag. Not yet satisfied, he rubs their cheeks together. Rakan wants to kiss her, wants to hear her sing praises back to him but the cloth is in the way. That’d have to wait a little longer. 

“I’m sure you would. Your body is already eager for me, can’t you tell? I’ve heard men say that it’s easier each time to conceive and last time it was so _easy_ -we weren’t even trying. I’m sure by morning I could have you with multiples.” 

He wants it. He wants her pregnant again with his child as soon as possible. Wants to fuck her full till his seed takes and she’s swelling under his hands once again, until she smells like him and everyone knows who she belongs to. 

It was a necessity. 

(*)**(*) 

Xayah felt his breath coast by her ear as her purrs his plans to her, his hands tracing her tummy and hips reverently. He could, she knew, he could have her bred round with twins by morning if he wanted to. She was tied up and helpless, legs spread like a whore in heat. She was essentially his to claim and fill as he saw fit and there wasn’t anything she could do about it. 

He has her cradled in his strong arms, held tight against his large body. To her nose he smells virile, hungry, _animal_. She whimpers against the gag and more precome releases through her vagina, dripping out of her hole to coat his length. 

“So perfect darling.” He murmurs and gives another light thrust against her, damnably still not sliding into her. “You see? You’re already ready for me. By morning I’ll have you filled to the brim, first day of thirty months. Do you think you could do that for me? Could you?” She feels his thick manhood rub against her sex once again and she moans and squirms against the bindings, ropes starting to be infuriating. She can hear him huff in amusement near her ear, large hand still rubbing over her flat lower stomach in circles. 

For a second she wishes she was already pregnant. He had doted on her so much when she was. He wouldn’t be leaving her high and dry if she was carrying his second child. 

(*)(*) 

She’s almost ready. Or at least, Rakan was getting tired of waiting. One last step; he’d promised her an hour. It was past midnight now, if he didn’t try now then their morning routine would be ruined. 

So he sits, pulls her upright onto his lap and kisses again at her collarbones. 

“My love, I gave you a while. Do you think you’ll have some for me?” He rubs at her breast with the hand not holding her steady and noses at her flesh there expectantly. There’s more there than before at least, puffing her out nice and round. Rakan slides his mouth over her nipple and melts into her, sighing with joy as he finally gets to pull from her. 

The taste explodes in his mouth like an overripe berry, sweet and warm as spring sunshine. This was addicting - he was a lost cause ever since he first discovered the wonders of her body two months before the birth. Her body quivers as he drinks and he rubs at her back smoothly back and forth, sometimes sloping lower to grip her ass if he felt like taking a particularly hard pull. 

He lets himself close his eyes, attempting to get lost in the feeling. She was so perfect the first time, there could only be a favourable repeat. Rakan sighs and nudges at her nipple with his tongue, suckling slowly and swallowing as soon as he had a mouthful. Her milk trickles over his tongue to pool in his cheeks easily and he gulps hungrily, hardly able to get enough. Her legs are still spread on his lap from the binding ropes, so he slides a free hand down to her groin while his other arm holds her to him tightly. 

If he could get her with child again, there’d be no doubt she’d produce more and he wanted that more than anything. She’d round out again if bred properly, and her breasts would follow suit and swell as her body prepares to feed another hungry mouth. His fingers poke around her slit, coat themselves with her come then his pointer and finger push inside; not doing much besides rub against her walls and anticipate her reaction to his feeding. 

Sure enough, after only a little more swallowing from him and she’s tightening on his digits and wetness drips down his hand. Predictable as the sunrise. 

“There you go. Almost ready sweetheart.” He croons to her and kisses just above her right breast, nipple reddened and perked against his cheek. The other he’d leave for later; he liked to drink while emptying into her. _Not too much longer and he could finally breach her_. By the looks of it she wouldn’t be able to take much more, and to be honest he couldn’t either. 

He was so hard it almost hurt - a heavy, dense throbbing that would only abate when properly sheathed. Xayah was so _warm_ , smelling like pheromones and taut on his lap. The ropes have been holding her well so far, a voluntary prisoner, but he couldn’t help but worry about her. She must be struggling at this point and he was more than willing to give her proper release - but the problem is that he liked seeing her face proper whenever he’s inside her and he couldn’t with her bound like this. At the same time, it would be a waste to untie her without properly taking her first. Rakan wanted to feel her body’s reaction as he fucks her restrained form. Would she fight back more? Or accept it? 

He hoped it was the former. 

“Alright baby… are you still doing okay?” 

Xayah nods rapid fast, almost smacking against his head while she did so. _Perfect_. 

“Do you want me to take you? We can be done for the night, if you’re tired.” He pauses for her reply. 

It’s hard to pick out through the checkered cloth but he can clearly make out a _please Rakan_ , and what might have been _fuck me_. It also could have been _duckie_ , but he assumed that was not the case. 

Not much preparation needs to be done as she’s already spread and soaked. So he lines her up and guides his member to her entrance, pushing through with one sudden movement. It’s snug, even after all this time mated to him, even after their first child. _He’s home_. There’s a shudder that runs through her at his breach and she moans against the gag, a wet spot starting to darken the silk. Xayah’s his to move as he pleases, so he lifts and pushes her back down onto him while remaining stationary, swiveling her slightly as he uses her body like some toy, a sleeve for his cock. 

That’s basically what she was right now, a vice for his use, helpless and wanting. When he feels his groin start to tighten Rakan keeps her still for a breath and just holds her, laps at the hickies there on her neck. 

“That’s good enough, right my love? You’re satisfied with that.” He starts to pull her off of him but she shakes her head violently and he can’t help but laugh. 

“No?” Rakan leans in to whisper at her ear. “Baby, if I go any further I’ll run the risk of knotting you, and what then? You’d have me stuck in you for _hours_. Surely you don’t want that.” 

It was true; he didn’t want to risk popping early and having her take him, lying for hours waiting for him to be properly done emptying to go again. She’d _hate_ that. 

“You’d definitely get with child then, just saying.” Rakan makes a thoughtful sound, faking like he was deliberating an idea, walks his fingers down to her bellybutton as he hums. Then he snaps his fingers with a satisfying sound. “Oh! Maybe I should then. You enjoyed it so much last time - and there’s not much you can do to stop me anyway.” 

He lifts her and pulls her down onto himself again, grins at the gasp half muffled by the gag. 

“Is that what you want? You want me to take you now?” 

The sound she makes behind the gag is clearly a _yes_ , so Rakan stands and easily takes her with him, pushed her against the stone wall of their shelter and holds her there, fucks into her as hard as he could manage. When he comes he holds himself back, pushing deep but staying the same size until he softens. There’s no sign of an orgasm on her end, so he thrusts into her a few times while soft before withdrawing - just to make sure none of his essence is wasted. 

First time of the night for him. Not yet enough. Xayah on the other hand had had the honour of several clitoral orgasms, but none that would satisfy her. 

Rakan was tired of her being tied up. 

“Okay okay, let me get you more comfortable baby. You’ve done so well.” 

It’s easy to get her legs firsts, loosening the knots until she can free her thighs and move them back from their T position. He takes a second to rub the areas blanched red from the rope and makes note to give her a massage there later. 

Then it’s pulling over and under, over and under until the ropes winding up her body are also discarded and all that’s left is the knots holding her wrists bound. Her cheek is twitching; gag and blindfold insitu for far too long. Rakan pulls the bow on the black silk and the cloth gag and the offending pieces of cloth drop to the ground. 

_Her eyes_ . It’s been an eternity since he gazed into their glorious, golden depths. She blinks in the sudden light, and then _focuses_. 

They’re _burning_ ; hot like fire, song loud as a tempest. She’s staring at him, starving for something, and before she opens her mouth to speak he steals her lips and kisses her feverishly. 

“Miella - “ He gasps when they part to breathe, fumbling for once behind her as he attempts to undo her wrist bindings in amongst his kissing. He’s good with his mouth, his tongue - _his_ _words_ \- yet here he feels momentarily at a loss. He wants her to know _needs her to know_ \- 

That’s it. The last of the silk ropes slacken and drop. _She’s free_ . 

Chests heaving they both stare at each other, and she seems to come aware of her new circumstances. 

She pushes him down with freed limbs, him on his back now and her clambering to stay on top. Rubbing her wrists momentarily, she stares down at him with eyes famished for love and what only he could give her. 

“Stay still.” She commands, and he wouldn’t even think of disobeying her. 

“Okay.” He swallows dumbly and waits for whatever she wanted to do. He’d do anything for her, he was prepared to stay awake all night. 

Xayah stretches, cracking her spine and straightening out her legs a moment before resuming her straddling of his hips. She rubs herself against him, eyes shutting as she arches her back, trails her fingers to her chest and moans. Rakan immediately focuses there, led by her prompts. One breast was still plump, not yet milked to his liking and the displeasure at that thought worms its way into his head easier than he’d like to admit. 

Rakan jolts as she takes his soft penis in her hand, guides it inside her then places her flat hands onto his chest, feeling across the muscles there. 

“Rakan, honey, you’re getting distracted again.” She coaxes, voice sweet as sugar as she grinds down on him, not missing a beat. “You're not finished with me yet.” 

“Whatever you need, I’ll do it.” He’d lasso the moon from the sky and present it to her if she requested it. Besides, he’d had his fun with directing their play - he could give her a chance to dictate their fun. 

Xayah takes his hands in hers and leads them up to her hips. Rakan smooths his thumbs over her hip bones - nice and wide - and waits further for her instruction. She knew what she wanted, was capable of asserting her own will - Xayah didn’t need any help from him. 

“Hmm… what do I need…” Xayah purses her purple lips thoughtfully, continues grinding on him until he feels interest stirring once again. What she wanted was obvious, but he’d wait for her to say it. She was still wet, flushed, upright and yearning. Then she stops and looks at him sharply. Diamonds could be cut with her expression. 

“I need you to get hard, and then I need you to fuck me until I can’t walk tomorrow. Okay?” 

Still riled up from being restrained, it seems. Rakan clucks his tongue and grins cockily up at her, then gestures with his hands up at her proud form atop him. 

“Looks like you can manage that on your own. “ 

She growls, then leans down to roughly shove their lips together. Their teeth click, and she accidentally bites his tongue in her eagerness. The taste of copper hits him as she drapes over his body, lifts her hips then drops. He grunts. 

This would be all her. At least for a little while. Rakan takes his hands from her hips and moves them back to grip her rear, pushing down whenever she was at the height of her thrust. Two, three, four, _five_ \- she drops and grinds onto him with a fervor, pushing down hard and throwing her head back in bliss. Rakan’s tore between where to watch; her face and its wondrous expressions, or the mesmerizing cadence of her breasts as they bounced. 

“Honey -“ She closes her eyes and continues to impale herself upon him, gasping as she desperately increases her pace. “Please… knot me. You can do better. I need it -I need _you_.” 

He could. It’s a simple matter of magic and imagination, and that was exactly what Xayah was hoping for. The inspiration for this had first come from talking to others of their kind, where it was more of an involuntary action from instinct than a choice. With a grunt, he lets himself swell at the base, enough that she could feel the bump but not enough that she was incapable of moving. When she keens he stops - Xayah knew what size she liked him at. 

“That good for you sweetie?” He huffs, slightly out of breath. She thrusts down against him with her vagina clenched hard as her answer. 

“ _Yes_ \- “ she breathes, tone air-light and pleased as punch. 

Each drop onto him has her squeezing tighter and _tighter_ around him until she’s crying out and spasming, finally granted a release worth her time as she coats his length with her come. 

Rakan opens his arms to her, feeling his natural charisma bubbling forth, excitedly showering her with light of his own charms. Predictably she melts, post-orgasm making her malleable and soft as she collapses onto him. 

He rubs her back for a while, strokes her long hair, feels over the bumps in her spine one by one. A few minutes of lying in silence breathing in the scent of her skin and sweat and then he gently repositions her to lying under him, kisses her cheek as she sighs. 

To the far right of the room Vesryn makes a quiet gurgle and they both freeze, turning their heads to stare at the bundle of blankets, waiting to see if he returns to sleep. After a good twenty seconds of silence the deep breathing of the baby resumes. They both sigh with relief. 

“My _love_.” Rakan strokes her cheek, watching her pupils slowly dilate in response to his magic. He wasn’t done with her, not quite yet. Her tummy is still flat, body still soft and willing for him. _That wouldn’t do_. 

Inside, he roots deep and pushes until he couldn’t bury himself any further then _releases_ , rejoicing in the spasming relief for just a moment. Xayah’s hands find his shoulders and slide their way up until she’s playing with his ears; running soft feathers between her fingers idly as he empties. She could feel him, that much was for certain, but he needed to ensure she could feel him _more._ Before they slept tonight he needed to have her stuffed and secure; full with no chance of his seed leaking out. 

_“Mieli -“_ She puffs out her lips to implore him for a kiss but he shakes his head. _Not yet. He had to concentrate._ It onlytook a few seconds of fondly looking down upon her, splayed and well fucked to get him interested again, stiffening with want of her pregnancy. _A few more times should do it, once now and a couple tomorrow_. 

This time, each thrust was accompanied by his knot swelling little-by-little, pressing against her smooth vaginal walls and dragging along with each oscillation of his hips. At this point she’s drenched enough with her natural lubricant for him to pop it out of her, only to shove it slightly larger than it was before back into her hole. Each time he grows he needs to apply more force, until she’s too tight to pull out of and she cries out, clinching around his cock and leaking what little of her slick that could come out down to her perineum. Rakan gives a few experimental tugs to see if he’s secure, and the knot doesn’t budge. He’s stuck until he softens. 

No reason to stop, though. 

Xayah claws at his back like a wild beast, digging in her nails with a passion. When he swells further she wraps her legs around his back and whines, trembling in ecstasy. 

He could go farther. She’d birthed him a son - she can stretch to take him as far as he needs. Resistance increases and he pushes against her canal, expanding slowly into her delicious heat. 

“ _Rakan_ -“ she gasps, blissed out on magic and hormones - but there’s tenseness there, an edge to her voice and body and he knows he’s starting to push it. So he drops back down, lying snug against her front and kisses her hard to distract her for a few more precious seconds of expansion. 

She rakes his back with her nails, leaving burning trails while her sex weakly trembles. She’s done resisting him; he can feel her cervix against his cockhead, throbbing and twitching. His balls tense and draw up to his shaft, then with a low groan he orgasms and empties more of his essence within her while his knot widens. 

“Stop… it's enough…” she finally begs, and he does; letting his knot cease its swelling. But he can’t help but give one last minuscule thrust; the action tugs at his core, radiating from their junction to deep in his gut. To his great satisfaction he stays in place, though she winces at the action. Rakan kisses her cheek as apology. 

“Okay, okay sweetheart.” He noses her throat, trailing down until he’s returned to her breasts. The left one is leaking milk, filled up more in the time since its twin was emptied. 

That was it. He’d stay releasing slow like this till morning. He hugs her with one arm, settling in comfortably against her chest while the other arm he slides down to rub at her tummy. From now on, he’d pay greater attention. He’d notice her pregnancy immediately; not have to rely on some doctor telling him after she was already a third of the way along. He could hardly wait. 

Rakan takes her breast into his mouth; sweet, light milk flooding his tongue as soon as he suckles like she had just been waiting for him to relieve her of it. A few swallows later and Xayah ceases her clawing at his back, arched fingers flattening to gentle palms as she softly moans. She always became docile if he drank from her long enough; proof of her nurturing instinct. 

Legs intertwined, he concentrates fully on drinking from her, the warmth of her body and her milk only encouraging the release of his essence deep within her. Still, after a few minutes her flow starts to slow and he needs to suck harder to get any decent amount. Rakan moves his hand from her stomach to rubbing her flank, admiring the strong smooth muscle running from hip to her slightly prominent ribs. As if she needed any encouragement further to accept his intent. 

After only a little longer she’s dry, nipples swollen and sensitive under his lips but yielding nothing more. Tutting, he ceases his suckling and plays with the nipple a little, pushing it around his mouth with his tongue before pulling off with a satisfied hum. 

“ _Rakan_ …” Xayah pushes at him weakly, flipping her head from side to side restlessly. It was a lot for her to take, he knows, but it was necessary. This was one of the most reliable ways to be sure. She’s squirming around him and he shushes her, soothing her with a few strokes to her clit. 

“Just a little longer baby, I need to make sure it takes.” He reassures her, kissing her sweetly and orienting himself to embrace her fully, holding her small frame secure underneath him. “Just for the night, okay? Relax and let me take care of you.” 

“You’re the worst.” She murmurs back but she doesn’t mean it, the want in her voice clearly underlying the whine amongst the drowsiness. When she lightly bites at his neck he knows she’s okay for the night. Laughing, he nips her back near the ear. 

“I know sweetie, I know - just a few more hours. Try to rest.” He lays his head on her chest, listening to her breathe and beat as his eyes closed. She was so healthy, so perfect. She’d give him another strong child for sure. 

Sleep was beckoning to him all the more and he finds he can’t resist it as easily now that he was certain at a job well done. He would find root in her and mark her as his for another thirty months -it was far too easy the first time to not happen now. 

Rakan drifts off, warm and pleased. Tomorrow would be another day. 

(----) 

When he wakes it’s from an odd sensation; a tugging at his groin and pressure at his back. Shifting, he tries to pull himself up but sharp nails dig in and hold him still. 

“Xayah?” He mumbles, blinking away sleep before drowsily nuzzling at her neck. 

“What are you -? “ 

Then he hears her fast breathing and stops; shakes the last of the sleep from his brain and puts two and two together. Her legs are locked around his waist, pulling him down every few seconds as her hips jut slightly up -as far as she can move with his knot still in her - accompanied by her vagina squeezing around him. Was she trying to milk his remainder into her, or bring herself to another orgasm on him? Either way, Rakan grins against her skin. 

“Miella… trying to have fun without me again?” Impressive that she was still horny despite the night before. Normally their kind would become quiet and pliant after being bred. 

“Well maybe I wouldn’t be if you didn’t sleep like a log.” Her tone is short. Grumpy. _Had she been up all night_? 

“Good morning to you too. Do I get a kiss?” 

Xayah gives him an exasperated look, but relents and offers him her lips. They smooch with a quick peck. 

“Now are you going to help me or not?” She pouts. 

“Of course baby. You only had to ask.” With a smirk he reaches between them to the small bump of her clit and starts rubbing, teasing the sensitive spot until Xayah growls and thrusts against him, reaching completion once again. After her inner walls finish spasming Rakan gives a few more jolts and slowly shrinks his knot, watching Xayah for any sign of discomfort as he withdraws while still hard. He wants to stay in her all day, maybe do a few more rounds but it wasn’t feasible. Her hole was stretched and well fucked; he can see white fluid start to drip out of her once he pulls out. 

He frowns. 

The baby starts to cry. Xayah covers her face and groans. 

“Don’t worry. I’ll get him.” Rakan stands and stretches, saunters over to their makeshift crib made from folded blankets and their backpacks forming the border. Vesryn’s tiny face is scrunched up, red from his wailing. Rakan scoops him up, cooing happily. He’s wet - not much of a surprise after all night- so he removes the dirty clothes, cleans him with a cloth dampened with water from their packs and dresses him in a dry diaper and tunic. 

“Hungry are you? Want breakfast?” He tickles Vesryn’s chin and the baby opens his mouth into a little ‘o’. That only meant one thing at this age. “That’s right! I’ll bring you to mommy.” 

Xayah lies partially inclined on their bedroll, a few pillows and extra blankets shoved behind her head to prop her up. She looks exhausted with shadows under her eyes and hair a mess; he feels a twinge of guilt. _It was his fault, after all_. Rakan kneels and carefully places Vesryn onto her breast, Xayah moving to cradle and position his head more effectively. Once the baby’s jaw started pumping and he quietens they both sigh with relief. 

“Good boy. Drink well.” Rakan kisses the crown of the baby’s head, then moved up to his real target and kisses her thrice. He rolls out of their way and returns to their supplies, digging through one of their bags with enthusiasm. 

“Are you joining us?” Xayah finally asks, hesitant and almost....shy. 

He eyed her breasts with skepticism. 

“I don’t think we’d both fit.” 

She blinks at him, then flicks him with her free hand. 

“No, I don’t mean drinking, I mean _… you know_.” 

“Do I?” He teases, then withdraws the last item he had prepared for the night before - glass, smooth and shaped like a wavy tear drop, thicker on one end with a ring to hook a finger through. Looking back to Xayah has his eyes glaze; she was beautiful like this, even when tired and unkempt. Usually when she feeds the baby he likes to go over and cuddle her, but today he has different plans. 

When he approaches she perks up, leaning forward to let him get him better access. Rakan lifts her onto his lap instead and she gives him a questioning look. 

He’s still hard from helping her earlier. Seeing her nursing only reinforced his attraction. 

“Baby, you good for one more time?” He nuzzles her shoulder and waits. Xayah turns her head to look at him. 

“Vesryn’s right _here_.” 

“He won’t remember.” 

A beat. Then she sighs - fondly, but an allowance all the same. 

“Okay. But only _once_ more.” 

He was gentle when pulling her onto him, sliding into her for what would be the last time for at least a little while. Some of him had leaked out of her since he pulled out; so now he had to replace it all and seal her up for at least the next few hours and since staying in her all day wasn’t an option, he’d settle for the toy instead. He had grabbed it from an exotic items trader in a port town along with the bondage ropes, and the seller had assured him it would be comfortable and perfectly safe. 

Bouncing her on his lap, he does most of the work while she feeds their child; soft gasps as the only evidence of her being affected from his thrusts. The pleasure that built up wasn’t red-hot or desperate as the night before, rather a relaxed buzz that left him warm and comfortable… that was to be expected after such a thorough breeding session. He had hardly any seed or energy left to spare - he could only imagine how Xayah felt. 

He bites her neck as he comes, desperately pushing the last of himself as deep as he could go before pulling out with a wet slide and slowly moving the glass plug to her entrance, rubbing it in her fluids to lubricate it. 

“Sweetie- ?“ She cuts off with a sharp inhale as he eases it into her, twisting and pushing in until it felt secure within her canal. That would keep her nice and stuffed until they had the chance to make love again. Satisfied, he presses kisses to her nape and hugs into her from behind, cups his hand over her pubis and massages there briefly. She smells like sweat, her milk, and of himself, and though he had no problem with this he also knew she’d be itching to clean up in case they ran into any other people for sake of her own sense of dignity. 

“Don’t worry baby. I’m just making sure you quicken. I’ll take care of everything - you just relax today.” 

She grumbles but doesn’t protest and demand its removal, so it was a win. Spirits above, he just wants to kiss her until they were both breathless, pull over the sheets and nap with his mate and son for a decade. How could one person be so happy? Life had always been a song, but now it was even more so; a joyous chorus all in harmony. 

Xayah eventually nods off in his arms with the babe still at her breast. Rakan lays her down, brushes his lips to her forehead and covers her back up with blankets. Vesryn he hooks a pinky into his mouth to break the seal, pulls off the breast and switches him to the other side. The baby latches easily and continues as if the supplier was still conscious. 

He’s a mess of feelings and urges, hands restless and wanting to reach and withdraw from everything at once. Most of all he wants to lie with her, but she needs food, a warm drink and a hot bath. _One thing at a time_ , he reminds himself, and moves about the cave tidying up. 

He boils water with the fire pit set up near the cave entrance, spares some of the cocoa he swiped from a rude merchant to shove into their cups as well as some of their precious cane syrup. Dried salted lamb he removes from their packs, as well as their flat bread from his village and honey. There’s still fruit left too so he pulls that out as well, cutting the peels off the jurums and sectioning it into manageable slices. 

He places it all onto a blanket spread on the floor next to her, and then rearranges their food to form a smiley face, then a heart, a feather. 

Xayah stirs. Rakan jumps up to her side, cradling her cup. 

“Here.” He places it next to her hand. “Hot chocolate! I’ve heard it’s good. Eat! Eat all of it. I’ll be right back in a blink, okay?” 

He doesn’t need any food - seeing her sated was all he needs - and besides, she needed it more than him. Would need more especially in the coming years. 

She nods sleepily, pulls Vesryn off of her and hands him to him. The baby’s awake but a little dopey, blinking up at him sleepily, confused at the sudden lack of teat. He clucks at the child and lets him wrap his tiny fingers around one of his larger ones. 

When he’s outside, dressed and carrying the baby in a sling he wanders, sipping his cocoa, singing and listening to the world’s response. He draws his wing-cloak around them for warmth and tracks farther out into the foggy morning. There has to be a hot springs around here somewhere. Rather, he _knows_ there’s one around here near the mountain’s base. In his youth it was a winter habit of his to go on quick escapades to the springs whenever he wanted time alone. 

That’s why he requested they stop and camp at this location in the first place. 

Over a few hills and ducking through old paths and he finds it, exactly as he remembered it. Water light green, smelling of salt and calcium. This would do fine. 

By the time he returns to the cave Xayah is almost done the entire spread, sipping at her cocoa between bites. 

“When you’re done, I’ll bring you somewhere nice okay?” 

She takes a long sip but nods with head downcast, not even asking where he was planning on taking her. When she finishes her drink and puts down her cup he scurries about grabbing supplies; their soap, their washcloths and drying cloths, then picks her up with the baby and carries her out of their cavern. 

\--(-)-- 

The sigh Xayah makes when he lowers her into the water is almost orgasmic. With Vesryn on his shoulder, he sits with her lolled against him in the water, his own back to the water-smoothed stone. Rakan works through her hair and feathers first, then washes her back, massages her muscles slowly from top to bottom. 

Cleaning her front would be the best part. He laves up their soap in the water, getting suds all over his hands before starting at her breasts and chest. Bubbles clung to her nipples as he pushes tiny circles of pressure around her breast tissue with his fingertips. They were semi soft now, emptied from Vesryn’s extended earlier feeding - he was bound to have a big appetite, just like his father. She giggles when he washes her belly button and spreads her legs when he goes lower. While going over her privates with a soapy washcloth he tucks a finger inside her to feel for the plug; sneakily he grips the ring with his fingers and gives it a little twist. Still secure. 

“Rakan…” Xayah says warningly. He chuckles. 

“I know sweetheart. I’m just checking.” 

“Uh huh.” 

Vesryn he washes too, soaping his downy feathered ears and fluffy thin hair. The baby stares up at him with big blue eyes today, matched by lighter hair and feathers. It changed daily, sometimes more than twice a day, depending on what he was exposed to and his current mood. Involuntary shapeshifting was common too until a certain age, so Vesryn often reflected what he saw around him. 

Xayah tugs at him tentatively and Rakan shakes his head, bundles their child in absorbent cotton and lays him safely out of range of the hot spring. 

“No darling, this is supposed to be about you today. I can wash my own feathers.” 

“Baby - “ 

“That’s final.” He dunks himself and scrubs quickly at his own hair. She had shrunk away a little at his response, folding easily to his demands and looked about ready to fall asleep again in the water. 

From everyone he talked to, other Vastayan men, his Grandfather, and his own instincts had him wanting to provide for her over all else to better improve their chances. She needs to be comfortable, warm and not wanting for _anything_. She was everything: half of him, half of his soul, half of _Vesryn_. 

He pats himself dry, helps Xayah out of the spring and wraps one of their drying blankets around her, then scoops her up bridal style with the baby in her arms. They might as well both be lighter than air, as he carries them both back to their shelter and settles them in. Vesryn lies on his back and stares, mesmerised up at the fairy lights Rakan cast about, (Mood lighting, _very i_ mportant, he always said) drooling onto his stuffed bird plush. 

Rakan combs out Xayah’s hair near their small fire, getting it dry before he braided it into an elaborate inverted twist -for luck. At least, the girls from his clan would do this. Whether it would incite the spirits to grant them their wishes was debatable, but it wouldn’t hurt. 

She’s still drowsy, leaning forward and jerking up every few seconds. Rakan leads her down, and they lay back onto their bedrolls. He fetches a crock from their bags and returns to her side, unscrewing it and removing a dollop. 

This was something he grabbed from a healer back at his village. It smells like mint leaves and creeping snowberry, but the apothecary claimed it to be a good moisturiser and pain reliever. He spreads it onto both hands and rubs it into her breasts first, over her dry areola and sore nipples before moving to her legs and thighs, rubbing with a gentle pressure over where he remembered the ropes digging in yesterday. She moans as he massages her, melting further under his fingers. It excites him a little, and his imagination makes him think of the previous night, holding her down and pumping her full. 

_Not tonight_ . He pushes his desire to the back of his mind. She needs to rest and recover tonight, that was the kind thing to do. Getting her sore and in pain wouldn’t do either of them any good. 

Last he kneads at the knots in her shoulders and upper back. Stress carries heavy on her muscles, and this is just one small way he can help. 

A few more sweeps over her back and he’s done, wiping any remaining cream into his own skin and lies down, draping over her. He could do for a nap too. By Xayah’s stillness, he can only presume she is already asleep. He drags a blanket up around them and lies with her in his arms. It’s warm, and quiet - no sounds besides soft noises from the baby now and again as he entertained itself. 

“What’s your favourite part about me?” She asks quietly. The question came out of nowhere, but Rakan didn’t need to think about it long. Seems she wasn’t asleep after all. 

“Your eyes.” He says, while kissing her shoulders. 

She huffs. 

“No, I mean _actually_. Not the stereotypical answer.” 

“Well…” Rakan leans over her and kisses her stomach. “It changes. This will be my favourite body part now for a while.” 

“No! Seriously.” 

“Your legs, then.” 

“Really?” She’s doubtful. 

“Of course! Who wouldn’t love these?” Her thighs were thick, toned and strong. He slides a hand down to rub appreciatively up from calf to hip. She was well shaped, a bit bottom-heavy, as beautiful as any other woman, but down below was where she truly shines. Legs she danced on, legs she fought with, legs she walked hundreds of miles alongside him with. 

“What about you? Don’t be shy baby.” 

“Your chest.” She states matter of factly, and he doesn’t believe it for one second. 

“Are you sure?” He purrs. “You wanna rescind that comment?” She flips to face him and gives him a light head-butt. She feels at his chest for a few seconds, but sneaks her hands around the back to pinch his ass. 

“Absolutely.” She says without a shred of shame. 

“Mhm. That’s what I thought Miella.” He lowers his head and they kiss, sweet and slow. They separate for a breath and join again, breathing the same air as they locked at the lips. Rakan strokes at her hair, her flank, all devolving until he pulls her into a full body embrace, intertwining their legs and separating their lips so he can rest his cheek against hers. 

“I love you.” He squeezes her tight and his heart thrums when she squeezes back just as hard. It pleased his soul to have her this close to him. They were one being, soulmates who had to search to find each other. 

“I love you too.” 

“How much?” He couldn’t help but ask, half to tease her half to hear her answer, even if it was no surprise. 

“More every day.” It was the same every time, but it always sounds genuine whenever she says it. 

“How can that be? You’ve been saying that for ten years. Can’t I be at max love by now?” 

Now she seems embarrassed. He settles back down next to her, keeping them still entangled in each other and smiles warmly as encouragement. She’s a little pink, (still easily flustered after all these years) as she closes her eyes and says; 

“Each day becomes the new max.” 

Rakan can’t help the grin that spreads across his face. 

“WeeeeeeeelI , I love you more than chocolate - white and dark! I would go to the moon for you, fight the sun, arrange the stars to spell your name. You deserve _everything._ ” 

Xayah hums in acknowledgement. 

“Is that so?” 

“Uh huh.” 

She’s tight to his front as he spoons around her, loops his arms around her waist and lays his palm on her tummy. Eventually she joins him; places one of her hands on top of his. It’s slightly distended, puffed out in an almost imperceptible way from their session the night before. Rakan makes a pleased rumble in his chest and she chirps in reply, kissing him over her shoulder. 

She nods off soon after, him drowsily joining in; letting his consciousness float off into the abyss where it could bask in the songs of the life around him. 

The remainder of the day is spent like that, lying snuggled together. Rakan only getting up to bring Xayah food or to bring the baby to her breast for a feeding. When he pulls the baby off he sees pearlescent beads still clinging to her nipple, and fights the urge to go down to taste. Instead he lays their swaddled child to the side, and returns to snuggling her after placing a kiss to her shoulder. 

When the sun goes down Xayah reaches for him, runs a hand through his hair to end resting on his neck while staring at him with half lidded eyes. 

“Mieli,” She says, “I think we should talk about last night.” 

“Oh. Yes. Talk is good.” 

Somehow, he’s nervous. It’s not like they had done anything too extreme or out of the ordinary. Still, the possibility that he hurt her makes his heart go cold. He bites his lip. 

“ - I didn’t go too far right? You’re not hurt?” Today he had checked her over, checked her back and thighs, her neck and front while bathing her. Besides her hickies and a few nail marks from gripping her she hadn’t been visibly roughed up. 

“No baby. Not at all. Relax.” She keeps running her hand through his hair and his heart rate slows eventually, reassured by her calm demeanor. Xayah would tell him if something was wrong. They had a very open relationship about these things. 

“Was I good enough?” She finally asks, averting her eyes to the side. 

“What? Of course! Honey, honey, _honey_ , you were beautiful, so _perfect_. I worry that I went too far. You didn’t have to accept the blindfold and gag if you didn’t want to. I don’t want you to feel bad at all. I _love_ you, I just want you to be comfortable.” 

“It was fine. I just missed seeing your face.” She admits quietly and his heart _melts_. He wants to gather her up in a blanket and hug her until she feels secure and strong again. He had fallen asleep last night too early to do proper aftercare, and he feels guilty for it. 

“I’m just thinking…what if this doesn’t work, what if it doesn’t take? I don’t want you to be disappointed. You’re so good to me honey I just -“ 

Rakan kisses her and she cuts off, biting his lip but letting him lead - letting him take control. It feels a little wrong now having her be so timid, but it only makes his protective instinct stronger. He speaks when they separate for air. 

“I could never be disappointed with you Miella, don’t ever think that. There’s no rush. As long as you’re happy, that’s all I want. Okay? I was mostly trying to rile you up.” He brushes their noses together and stretches out his wings, curling them back in to enclose her as he resumes spooning her. 

“Are you really sure you’re okay with what happened last night?” He needs to double check. It wasn’t beyond Xayah to be deceiving, or to fake being fine. She’s usually assertive, but hormones from the birth were still running high and it’d been a while since he’s been so dominant with her. 

They’d done it before; using ropes and binds wasn’t anything new. She’d never had an issue in the past, but anything could change. 

“I wanted it. I spent the week messing with you for a reason.” She finally says, and when he peeks over at her face he sees it start to colour pink. _So cute_. Rakan starts to feel at her front, starting high but working his way down steadily. 

“And staying in you for all night? Was that too far?” At this, he rests his hand back over her stomach, massaging at it gently while imagining its progress in the upcoming months. She may be worrying about their success, but he wasn’t. Even if it wasn’t taking this time and a few weeks from now she bleeds out her potential, he could always just try harder the next time around. 

“It hurt a little, but I didn’t mind it. You were on top of me too, so I felt very…” She stops for a second, and he worries she might be too embarrassed to finish. She takes a deep breath. 

“I felt very secure.” 

Rakan hums a vibrating affirmation. 

“That’s important.” 

He hears her swallow. 

“Yeah.” 

They shuffle a little and blankets get readjusted. He tucks her in tight to his body and starts to doze, still waiting on her and her needs. When she starts to become restless he waits a little longer and as expected she turns back to him and starts nipping sleepily at his neck, leaving little indents that excited him more than hurt. He makes a soft sound and exposes his neck further, happy to let her mark him up. 

When she gets tired of that she leads his hand from her hip to her groin and he smiles. 

“What is it? Do you need something?” He asks, ready to jump at her command. 

“The toy.” She guides his fingers to her entrance. “Take it out. _Please._ ” She adds the last bit as an afterthought. 

“Alright baby. You did have it in you all day. You deserve a break.” 

He loops a finger through the ring of the plug and pulls, slowly working it out of her - though every time she involuntarily clenches it gets sucked slightly back into her, dragged by the smooth muscles there. She’d become accustomed to it now, but he manages to remove it with a twist and a little more effort. 

The toy is warm from her body heat and shining with a mixture of both their fluids. He licks it from base to tip, tasting her sweet citrus mixed with his bitter essence. 

Xayah watches him, equal parts intrigued and grossed out. 

“Is it that good?” She inquires while her eyes focus on the glass toy. 

“I dunno! I like it.” Rakan shrugs and offers it to her. She sniffs it curiously, then gives it a small lick. Her face scrunches up as she processes the taste. 

“It’s okay.” She says and he chuckles, laying the toy to the side. Xayah in the meantime is still, seemingly still adjusting to the feeling of being empty once more. She leads him back over her and spreads her legs, capturing his hips and tugging him down to lay back half atop her. 

There’s a minute where they resume snuggling, him stroking her cheeks and smiling down at her lovingly. After she pulls him back in for another kiss she bats her eyes at him and makes a simple request; 

“Make love to me darling.” 

He needed no further persuasion. She exhales happily when he roots and sheaths himself in her. 

Xayah’s eyes are warm and glistening but she breathes in sync with him, taking him as only a mate can. Like this he knows their bodies, souls and songs were one. He can feel as she does: sore but satisfied, full of his come and subject to a warm throbbing. At the same time he can perceive a sense of vulnerable sadness. 

“You miss me honey?” He teases. She was slightly loose at this point, stretched from his knot yesterday and the toy besides, but still pleasurable to be inside, still warm and slick. Tonight there’s no rush so he moves slow, thrusting deep to her core but gently, muscles trembling with the effort of holding himself back. She reaches out a hand and they interlace their fingers. 

This was something that always felt special, regardless of how many times they lay together. No doubt she’s exhausted and sore, but still she was here, needy and looking at him like he was the world. 

Surprisingly she finishes first, though it’s weak and she barely manages to tighten around him - but she squeezes his hand and breathes his name like it’s a prayer. He thinks of their future and it does him in for the final time that night, for what little he has left to give her. 

They kiss; her lips soft and trembling, and she caresses his cheek, his feathered ears, his neck. 

Unlike the night before, he refused to go to sleep right away. 

“Do you want me to stay in you?” He’s not big enough right now to be as restrictive as a knot, or as tight of a fit as a plug, but an extra point of contact never hurt and lying so close together in this way made him feel as though their souls were touching, properly forming the whole from two halves. 

“…if you don’t mind.” She mumbles, half hiding her face. He smiles at her bashfulness and gives her cheek another peck before pivoting and moving around her, sliding out only to get back into position behind her and spooning into her close. What was so embarrassing about this? Her want for his contact only made him love her more. 

She retakes the hand that’s draped over her front and laces their fingers back together. 

“I love you.” She sounds about to drift off for the night, and he hopes Vesryn sleeps at least the full eight hours before crying and waking them both. Xayah needs the rest. 

“I love you too.” Nothing could be truer than that. Rakan closes his own eyes and tries to relax though every shift of Xayah or every involuntary twitch of her lower muscles makes him far too aware of their positioning. 

_That was okay_ , he tells himself as they finally settle to sleep. _Tomorrow he’d gladly do it all over again_. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OoooOOOPS Rakan actually has a pregnancy kink this time. Fun fact: My favourite parts of this fic are the cute parts where they're just cuddling. xD


End file.
